#christmas fake dating
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'tis the damn season
When their exes start dating and return home for Christmas, Regulus and James agree to fake a relationship to spare themselves the awkwardness of facing their old flames alone. As they navigate the chaos of family, friends and holiday traditions, their pretend affection begins to feel unexpectedly real. By the end of the season, they’re left questioning if they’ve been faking it all along—or if they’ve stumbled into something genuine.
chapter 1 of my jegulus fake dating christmas fic is up now
⁕ fake dating ⁕ mutual pining ⁕ slow burn ⁕ endless holiday vibes
#fic: tis the damn season#jegulus#james potter#regulus black#regulus x james#fake dating#christmas vibes#I love this lil fic sm#if you know me you know the only thing I love more than second chance romance is fake dating#wolfstar#bartylily is here too#scratching my bartylily itch finally
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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - series master list
Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating, set at Christmas
Summary: When a phone call with Y/n's mother goes wrong, she ends up needing to bring someone home to pretend to be her boyfriend for three days in the English countryside. With only a short amount of time before she needs to leave, her only option is her boss Anthony Lockwood.
The only problem is, she hates her boss, and he hates her.
Christmas will be interesting this year, especially when a snowstorm hits and blocks all transport.
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
part 9
part 10
part 11
part 12
April Fool's! ~ special 1
Bank Holiday ~ special 2
#lockwood and co#anthony lockwood#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood x reader#enemies to lovers#fake dating#christmas
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Favor
Plot: In a moment of desperation you ask Seonghwa for a favor. He is happy to oblige....suspiciously happy actually.
Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Gn!Reader
A/n: For those who don't like vague plot-lines, this is a fake dating story.
Warnings: Nothing I can think of!
Words: 2.6k
Hanging up your phone with a sigh, you leaned on the balcony railing as you dropped your head.
'I knew I shouldn't have answered that phone call.'
Your mother, as much as she did love you, had a tendency to make things very hard for you. Most of the time when she thought she was "helping." This time, her latest scheme was to find you a boyfriend, or as she called it, your future husband.
There had been times in the past when she attempted to set you up with some people here and there, none of them worked out of course. Now she was planning on introducing you to not one, but numerous men, all at the same time. Specifically at your father's companies Christmas party. An event you dreaded attending in the first place, now your mother decided to add another horror to the list of reasons you didn't want to go.
Hearing the door slide open, you looked over to see Seonghwa. You felt your heart race in the now familiar way at the sight of him.
He eyed you for a moment as he walked up to you. "Everything okay? You've been out here for a while, we were getting worried."
You sighed, "It was my mom."
He let out a soft chuckle as he leaned against the railing beside you, "I'm all ears."
After explaining everything to him he stared of into space for a moment. You could tell he was trying to think of a way to make you feel better, or even an idea of how to get out of your predicament. But what you did not see, was the burning ache of annoyance.
The idea of you being set up with guys, or even going on dates with someone pained Seonghwa. Now to hear you were going to be forced on multiple men in an attempt to find your "future husband"?? His chest tightened at the thought.
"Can you just, not go?"
You scoffed softly, "I have to, if I don't my dad will hold it against me forever and will make me regret it in some way or another."
"Why is your mother so insistent on setting you up anyways?"
"She's afraid I'll die alone I guess." You chuckled softly before letting out a sigh. "God, I really don't think I can deal with it, I know she as no idea what kind of guy I actually like, who knows what these guys are like."
He smiled in pity as he watched you, "I'm sorry, I wish I could help."
'If only I could go with you...'
You looked over at him as a sudden thought popped into your head. If Seonghwa came with you as a date, would your mother give up? The idea made your heart flutter.
Seonghwa saw something light up your eyes for a second and he smiled, "What?"
Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed by the thought you shook your head, "Nothing, I just had a stupid thought."
"What kind of stupid thought?" He asked, leaning a bit closer to pressure to to tell him, as he hoped you had thought of the same thing he did.
You twiddled your thumbs for a moment as you considered asking, or at least suggesting it. Glancing over at him he smiled softly, waiting for you to give in.
You turned slightly towards him, "What if... you did me a giant favor?"
He felt his heart skip a beat as anticipation built. "It depends on the favor."
"Well...if I went to the party with a date, my mom might not bother introducing me to anyone."
Seonghwa clenched his jaw as he repressed a grin. He looked out at the view and hummed, "That might work."
You watching him in anticipation before he caught your pleading eyes and let out a soft laugh. "Okay."
"Okay?!"
"But-! You'll owe me."
You nodded in agreement and he chuckled, still repressing the excitement of his own as he thought of going with you as your date.
Looking in at the party ahead of you, you let out a deep breath. Seonghwa watched you with a soft smile as he leaned closer "Relax, it's gonna be fine, you look great."
You let out a soft laugh as you met his eyes, "How I look has nothing to do with why I'm nervous, but thank you."
He grinned at you as he pulled you gently, encouraging you to walk further into the room with him. The large room was lit up by a bright Christmas tree in the middle of the room. Every table was decorated with garland with red and gold ornaments. Covers of classic Christmas songs played from an adjacent room as you spotted people dancing together.
Everyone was dressed in formal attire, most in various Christmas themed colors. You didn't get far into the party before your parents spotted you and made their way over.
They eyed Seonghwa as you introduced him. They knew of him since you and Seonghwa had been close friends for a while, so it wasn't entirely shocking that you showed up with him.
Your father was pleased by it, while your mom was obviously suspicious, as you feared she might be when you suddenly told her you would be coming with a date.
After your mothers attempt at prying, and Seonghwa skillfully dodging any suspicion. Your father managed to shoo her way as they went to greet other acquaintances.
You and Seonghwa made your way to a corner and mingled with each other as you watched the party around you. You didn't know anyone except by mild acquaintance, and there were very few people your age in general.
"I wonder how long we can stay before my dad feels guilty enough to let me leave."
Seonghwa chuckled as he sipped at his drink and looked around. He paused as he spotted your mother watching the two of you closely.
He smiled to himself as he glanced over at you before he slyly stepped closer before wrapping his arm around your waist and setting his hand on your hip.
You froze as a shiver crawled up your body as you looked over at Seonghwa. "What are you doing?"
He leaned a bit closer to speak quietly, "Your mother is watching us."
You casually glanced around and saw your mother eyeing Seonghwa. "Oh...". Your heart was beating faster as you felt nervous from his touch.
Remaining in this position for a short time, you saw your mother suddenly approach a younger man. Seeing her gesture over to you, you felt your heart sink.
"Oh no."
Seonghwa followed your gaze and clenched his jaw. It was going to take a bit more on his part for your mother to back off.
Your dread only grew as your mother approached you, stranger in tow. After some brief introductions, in which your mother barely acknowledged Seonghwa, the man seemed to grow nervous.
Glancing at Senghwa you saw him staring at the man with an almost unnerving gaze. You smiled to yourself as you realized he was trying to silently scare the man off.
Luckily for you, it worked, as the man excused himself a few minutes later, leaving your mother disappointed as she left to go find your father.
You nudged Seonghwa and he looked over at you, "I'm surprised you didn't burn holes into him."
He chuckled, "I tried my best."
Unfortunately for the two of you, your mother still remained unconvinced Seonghwa was anything to you but a friend as she started to plot with another one of the suitors.
Seonghwa, having been keeping an eye on her, saw this and quickly made his own move.
Taking your glass and setting it aside he smiled at you, "Let's dance."
You swallowed nervously, "Dance?"
He nodded, "Before she brings the next one over."
You looked round in panic to see your mother walking through the room with another man you did not know. Seonghwa slid his hand into yours as he swiftly lead you to the dance floor.
As Seonghwa pulled you close to him as you began dancing in rhythm to the music playing, you watched as your mother shoo the man off as she watched you and Seonghwa.
You smiled as you looked at Seonghwa, whose gaze almost parallelized you. You swallowed nervously again as you avoided eye contact, becoming more aware of how close you were.
"Did it work?" He spoke softly, making goosebumps rise up our neck as his breath brushed your ear.
You nodded and he smiled in pride.
"She always sees right through me." You mumble a moment later.
"Well, she can look as hard as she wants at me, she wont see what she is expecting too."
Your eyes shot over to him as he smiled at you. "What does that mean?"
He shrugged his head softly, and you slyly pinched his arm, making him hiss.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself. You and your cryptic words." You giggled and he smiled fondly at you.
He hoped you did actually understand what he meant, and the way you seemed to avoid eye contact, made him think you did.
Suddenly kissing your cheek you looked back at him in surprise and he laughed softly.
You scoffed, "I think you might be enjoying my misery too much you know."
He grinned, "Just a little."
Your dance with Seonghwa helped you avoid one suitor, but your mother managed to surprise you with two more as you and Seonghwa were talking to your father.
One seemed just as intimidated by Seonghwa as the first man had been, and avoided conversation. But the other seemed unfazed, even amused by the situation.
Seonghwa's annoyance rose as this man lingered too close to you, attempted to lean closer as he joked with you, and even brushed your hand on purpose as he handed you a drink.
The only thing saving Seonghwa from his anger, was your obvious disinterest in the man. Even your mother seemed a bit perturbed by his actions, which only helped Seonghwa's confidence.
Finally finding a moment to excuse yourself to use the bathroom, you and Seonghwa shared a nod as you made your escape. Once you left the bathroom, Seonghwa swooped past, leading you through the crowd, away from your mother and the cocky suitor, before the two of you stepped outside.
As soon as the cold night air hit you, you let out a sigh of relief. "God that man was driving me crazy."
Seonghwa chuckled as he slid off his jacket following you to the terrace wall. As you leaned on the wall, looking out at the view, you felt Seonghwa drape his jacket over you and you smiled at him.
"Thank you."
He nodded with a smile as he placed his hands on the wall and took in a deep breath.
"I'm sorry."
Seonghwa's eyes snapped over to you at your sudden apology. "For what?"
"Asking you to come here when it made no difference, you can leave if you want." You smiled almost sadly as you looked up at the sky.
"I think it is making a difference. Besides that ken-doll I've managed to scare the others off. I'll stay."
You smiled as your heart pounded. Seonghwa was always there for you in any situation.
Looking over at him, you smiled "Thank you."
He nodded, "Of course. Besides, I like the idea of you owing me."
You chuckled at this, "It sounds like you have something specific in mind that you want from me."
He looked at you for a moment as he seemed to study your face, making you feel shy. "I do."
You felt your chest clench, "What is it?"
He smirked as he turned to face you, still leaning on the wall. He cleared his throat before he leaned in a little, holding your attention completely.
"A date."
Adrenaline seemed to spike through you as your heart raced, "...A date?"
He nodded softly "A real date, not another fake one."
Your mind seemed to go blank as you stared at him in shock. "...oh"
He tilted his head as he watched you stare at him in silence. As much as he was not showing it, he was beginning to panic at your lack of response.
"Not interested?"
You seemed to regain control of yourself as he spoke and you shook your head, "Noo, no- I mean, that's not it, I'm just surprised."
"By what?"
"Well, why would you want to go on a date with me?"
The tone of your voice sounded so genuine Seonghwa felt his chest clench painfully. Did you really have no idea of his feelings for you? Had he hid them too well?
A frown was evident on his face as he leaned a little closer to you. "Are you crazy? I've been wanting to go out with you for ages, Y/n."
You let out a soft bewildered laugh, "What?"
"Yeah! I've tried to ask you out a few times but it never worked out. The others always found out and invited themselves along, not realizing I wanted it to just be us. So it always ended up turning into hang outs rather than dates."
As those moments passed through your mind as you recalled the disappointment you felt each time. You let out another laugh "So that was never on purpose?"
He shook his head as he smiled, watching you chuckle at the realization. As your eyes met you looked away shyly as you played nervously with your hands, a habit Seonghwa picked up on a long time ago.
Catching sight of someone at a nearby window, Seonghwa noticed your mother watching the two of you as your father tried to pull her away. He let out a soft silent laugh as he shook his head gently.
Looking back at you, he leaned closer as he gently reached over to caress your face, gaining your attention.
You looked back at him a little startled by his actions as butterflies swirled in your stomach.
"So what do you say? I don't want you to go on a date with me because you owe me a favor, I want you to go because you want to."
You swallowed nervously as your chest grew warm. You nodded softly, "I want too."
A grin spread across his face, "Good. Now, don't be too startled."
You furrowed your brow as you silently questioned him. You heart spiking as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, right on the edge of your lips.
He smiled cheekily at you as you caught on to his reason for the kiss. "Is my mother watching us again?"
He nodded softly and you laughed, looking away bashfully for a moment before looking back at him. He leaned closer again, a teasing smile on his face making you giggle just as he kissed your cheek again.
"Stop! If you do too much she might start planning a wedding."
He laughed, before he suddenly placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, "That doesn't sound so bad."
You bit your lip to keep from grinning as he chuckled softly, adjusting his jacket around your shoulders as he looked back at the window. Your mother was nowhere in sight, and he had no idea if she saw the kiss in the first place. But even if she didn't, there was nothing for her to suspect now.
Now he had no intention of being your fake anything, and he had absolutely no intention of letting you go.
xx End xx
Sort of an abrupt ending?? But it's getting late and I'm running out of brain power lol
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#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa/reader#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa/reader#ateez x reader#ateez/reader#seonghwa imagine#ateez imagine#park seonghwa imagine#seonghwa fic#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa x gn!reader#ateez x gn!reader#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#12 Days of Christmas#seonghwa fake date fic
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Writing Prompts
I keep coming across writing prompts, and wanted to throw them all together. I've tried my best to organize them for those who wish to use them. Please give credit to those that have created the prompts. Happy writing!
I'm trying to update this and make it more organized. The post is doing better than I thought and it's too long for my liking
(If someone wants to suggest a better way to make this more organzied, I will greatly appreciate it)
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Holiday Themes
Friends to Lovers
Miscellaneous Dialogue and Prompts
Angst Prompts
Fake Dating
Enemies to Lovers
Writing Tips/Advice
mega masterlist
#writing prompts#write it motherfuckers#holiday prompts#otp prompts#valentine's prompts#christmas prompts#dialogue prompts#fake dating prompts#enemies to lovers prompts#reverse tropes prompts#fanfic prompts#novelbear#fluff prompts#youneedsomeprompts#dating prompts#tetsunova#ive typed prompt so much it doesnt seem like a real word now#fanfic prompt#prompts
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One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party
Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?
Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes
Word Count: 5.9K+
A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!
Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend.
Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.
Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.
No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.
The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one.
Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.
Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”
“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.
Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.
He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.
“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.
There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.
Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar.
“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”
“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.
“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.
“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.
“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.
“Maggie?” Peter questions.
“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.
“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.
“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.
You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.
“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”
“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”
“What for?” You asked him.
“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”
“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”
“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.
“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”
“I know, but… she just, I know she never gave up hope.”
“You know what they say about hope?” You say.
“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.
“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”
Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”
“Princess Leia.” you smile.
“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.
“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”
“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.
You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place.
He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.
“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.
You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.
“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.
“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.
“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.
Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.
“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.
“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.
“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his.
His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.
Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.
He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.
“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”
“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”
You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”
His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”
“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.
“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.
“Next year I won’t bother then.”
“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm. Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress.
The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.
He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“
“Peter.” You whine.
“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.
“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.
You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs.
The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.
You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.
His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.
“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan.
He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.
“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.
Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.
As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want.
His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.
You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.
You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.
You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him. Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.
His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.
You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin.
You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.
It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.
Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.
“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.
“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.
“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips.
You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.
Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.
You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.
His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.
You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.
He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.
When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.
His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”
“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.
“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”
“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.
“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”
You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”
“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”
You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”
“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”
“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.
“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.
“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.
“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.
“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.
He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”
“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.
“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”
“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.
He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.
“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.
I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.
@sincericida @tarzinnia @raindropsandteaandtears @xenasolos @dil3mma @ms-wild-card-56 @shivani1902
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#andrew!peter parker#peter parker imagine#spider-man#andrew!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#Christmas Peter Parker story#tasm peter parker imagine#christmas imagine#holidate#fake dating#Peter Parker smut#one last date for christmas#andrew peter parker#andrew garfield peter parker
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To Fall For The Bumblebee
Complete | 64k | Fake dating
Their relationship may be fake, but their feelings are real. After lying to his mom about having a boyfriend, Louis needs to find a fake one stat so he has someone to bring to his family's annual Christmas party. But, as he begins his search, things take a turn, and he attracts the attention of not one man but three.
It’s not Christmas anymore, but it’s never too late for a fluffy romance fic!
Louis is a cynical businessman, who’s closed off to love. He takes interest in three men, but of course, Harry, the adorable bookstore owner with the best smile and prettiest eyes, is the one 💚
・
Below are two cover photos for those of you who choose to download the fic :)
#larry stylinson#larry fanfiction#larry#fanfic#ao3#fake dating#christmas#meet cute#fluff and humor#no smut#I love my boys#hope you like it#my fic
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you've got a pretty kind of dirty face
by Lihhelsing
Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Modern AU, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Christmas Presents, Sweater Exchange, Twitter plays a part in it, so there's a lot of unhinged tweets, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Meet-Cute, kind of, Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Dating, robin and steve are soulmates, Smut, Oral Sex Words: 23,321 Chapters: 1/1
Summary
Things kept happening to Steve and he didn't know how to stop them. It started with that show from a band Steve had never even heard of, followed by Steve making a fool of himself in front of the (hot) guitarist and ending up with them, somehow, deciding to be fake boyfriends. And don't even get Steve started with the Twitter trolls. OR; modern au with fake dating and lots of silly tweets
#steddie#steddie fic rec#oneshot#10-25k#au no upside down#au modern#rockstar eddie#christmas#meet cute#hurt/comfort#fake dating
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Christmas Farce
Summary: Camila can’t stand spending Christmas alone anymore. That’s when Matt comes up with a bold idea—he suggests that they pretend to be a couple during the holidays. But they soon realize that playing at being boyfriend and girlfriend may reveal much more than they were willing to admit.
Pairing: Matt Smith x fem!Oc
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: romance, mild angst, fake dating trope, lighthearted humor, Christmas themes, suggestive language
Chapters: 1/5
A/N: English is not my mother tongue, so there may be mistakes here and there. This is a work of fiction inspired by the persona of Matt. All respect to Matt as an individual is maintained throughout.
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“You can’t be serious,” Camila shot back, her dark eyes filled with suspicion.
There were things that were impossible to explain, and Matt Smith asking her out was one of them.
Nothing in the world could have prepared her for when he called her into the small conference room. His mere presence condensed the air, as if he exerted influence over the universe. It was dizzying.
“You asked Santa Claus for a boyfriend,” he countered, as if it were completely plausible, not allowing her to interrupt. “So why are you rejecting me?”
Oh no, Camila thought, he saw that?!
As if it weren’t embarrassing enough to know a coworker had witnessed her moment of madness, he still had the audacity to offer to fulfill the request she’d declared after a few drinks?
She swallowed hard.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Smith,” Camila couldn’t look him in the eye.
“No?” he questioned, his voice sweet like poison. “Maybe I should remind you of the happy hour we went to last Friday?” When there was no response, he continued: “Where you vomited on my…”
“That was an accident!” she exclaimed, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. “And I already apologized!”
When Camila saw a smile curve his lips, she realized the colossal mistake she had made.
“Oh, it’s great that you remembered, Drumond,” he celebrated, oblivious to the torrent of insults she was mentally directing at him. “Now, do me a favor and explain why you won’t accept me as your boyfriend.”
She sighed, asking herself why the universe chose to punish her like this. Raising her gaze, she was met by his sky-blue irises, placid as the surface of a frozen lake.
“It’s not wise to listen to someone who’s drunk.”
He laughed.
“Darling, everything said while drunk is thought out sober,” he shot back, and Camila found herself on the verge of committing murder.
Ignoring him, she continued,
“We’re not in a romantic comedy, you know? I don’t need to pretend to have a boyfriend at Christmas.”
“So that’s the problem?” his eyes sparkled.
She tilted her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. “How?”
“Is that the problem?” he repeated, as if it would make sense the second time. “Are you afraid it’ll turn into a romantic comedy where one of the parties ends up falling in love?”
If the situation were different, Camila would have laughed until she cried, but now, in this scenario, all she managed was to stammer,
“D-don’t be ridiculous!”
“Right, so that’s not the problem,” he smiled, and Camila realized there was nothing charming about those dimples. “Now, can you tell me why you won’t accept my proposal?” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Unfortunately, I have a meeting scheduled and I’d hate to leave without resolving our issue.”
“Smith…” saying his name had become a personal torture. “We don’t have any issue to resolve.”
“So, will you accept my proposal?”
You arrogant piece of shit!, Camila mentally cursed, regretting that there was no way to sidestep this situation.
Resigned, she leaned back against the furniture, letting out a loud sigh.
“Why do you insist on tormenting me?”
“Drumond, don’t avoid the subject,” he asked, as if he were the victim.
“Why do you want to date me so much?” she was already regretting asking.
“Great question,” he smiled, settling into the chair that now seemed too small for him. “We both stand to benefit from this situation. You’ll have someone to spend Christmas with, and I won’t be bothered by my family for not having a girlfriend. It’s quite simple, don’t you think?”
In a moment of weakness, Camila imagined how nice it would be to have a warm, laughter-filled Christmas again. The idea seduced her more than it should have. That’s what loneliness did to people; it made them foolish.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to find a real girlfriend?” she protested.
Smith made a disdainful expression before saying, “Too much work, and you’d spend another lonely Christmas.”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
He leaned over the table in an elegant, perhaps even predatory movement, his gaze fixed on her feminine face.
“It’s my duty to look out for the well-being of my coworkers.”
Camila clenched her fists beneath the table, her jaw tight. “Stop messing with me.”
“I’m serious. Look at me.” When she didn’t, he pleaded, his voice filled with kindness. “Please, look at me.”
Still hesitating, she raised her gaze, surprised by the sincerity that overflowed in his eyes.
“My sister recently got married; you have no idea the terror I endure at holiday parties. It seems all my aunts have decided to take it upon themselves to introduce me to every single woman within a ten-mile radius.”
“How you suffer,” she said sarcastically.
“You have no idea how much,” he remained unshaken. “If you accept my proposal, I won’t have to come up with a thousand excuses to avoid dates.”
Camila tried not to show her surprise. Not that she thought Matt Smith was a libertine, but hearing that he made excuses to avoid dates was somewhat shocking. I mean, women falling at his feet wasn’t every man’s dream?
“And you would get the chance to spend Christmas with family. Although we may not have Latin blood like yours, I assure you we know how to have fun as well. And, I’ll owe you a favor—any favor.”
Camila sank into the armchair, running a hand through her dark hair in exasperation.
Damn it.
She was tempted.
It had been just over two years since she was hired by The London Herald, and during that time, she had interacted with Matt Smith only a few times. Not that he was unpleasant; it was just that opportunities hadn’t arisen, and he left her somewhat nervous.
Last Friday, when she was invited to the happy hour at the pub the team usually frequented, Camila wished the ground would open up and swallow her when she vomited on him; that was the most embarrassing moment of her life. In her defense, she hadn’t known she would get so drunk so easily. But he didn’t even raise his voice; he just asked Emma —Camila’s friend�� to call a taxi so she could go home.
And he was attractive, very attractive.
Camila remembered blushing when she saw him for the first time.
His angular cheekbones, prominent chin, straight nose, and thin lips formed a unique harmony. His brown hair was thick and silky, and his pale blue eyes were penetrating. Not even all those layers of clothing could hide his strong, solid build.
Camila sighed, shaking her head in denial.
“That makes no sense,” she whispered.
“Explain.”
She looked at him, her brows furrowed. “Why did you choose me?”
Matt seemed confused by the question, quickly retorting, “Why wouldn’t I choose you?”
Camila opened and closed her mouth, but no words found their way out. Okay, she hadn’t been expecting that. Clearing her throat, it took a lot of effort to formulate a coherent sentence.
“Let’s say I accept. Don’t get excited; I haven’t accepted anything. Hypothetically, we would spend Christmas with your family in…”
“Surrey,” he completed.
“In Surrey,” she repeated, her voice squeaky. His family lived in one of the richest counties in England—“But what about after? Would you slander my name so everyone would accept the end of our relationship? Would you say I’m a cruel bitch who betrayed you in the most twisted way possible?”
“What?” he laughed. “Where did you get that?”
“Answer,” she demanded, her cheeks flushed.
To his credit, Matt quickly composed himself, though his lips retained a hint of amusement. “As charming as your suggestion is, I’d prefer to say we had an amicable breakup. I mean, if you accept the proposal.”
Camila twisted her fingers, weighing the pros and cons, so focused that she jumped when he stood up. In a fluid motion, Matt buttoned his blazer, brushing off nonexistent dust from his clothes. He was a perfect example of how the English aristocracy should look.
“Unfortunately, my meeting can’t wait any longer,” he lamented, and was there a plea in his gaze? “Think about it, Drumond; I’ll be waiting for your answer.”
When he reached for the doorknob, it occurred to Camila that she was about to make the most absurd decision of her life.
“Wait!”
He did, turning his back and becoming as still as a marble statue.
She hesitated, her heart pounding so fast it felt like it was punching her ribs, expelling all the air from her lungs. It was as if dozens of butterflies were swirling in her stomach.
“I…,” she swallowed, “I accept.”
Matt turned slowly, looking at her so intensely that Camila felt as if invisible hands were gliding over her body. Heat pooled beneath her skin.
“Excuse me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.
She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak: “I accept your proposal.”
A wide smile slowly spread across his face. As beautiful as it was dangerous.
“Wise decision, darling.”
With the grace of a big cat, Matt approached with long strides, resting one hand on the tabletop as he leaned toward Camila. He was so close that she could feel his breath tickling her face.
Nothing. Camila did absolutely nothing to counter his advance. Her body, that treacherous traitor, simply registered the information that Matt was hot, as if there were liquid fire instead of blood in his veins. And his scent… heavens, it was ridiculously pleasant. And what to say about that magnetism? In her entire life, Camila had never been so aware of another person’s body.
To her horror, a gasp escaped her lips as she felt his touch on her face, lifting it gently until their eyes met. There was amusement there, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Matt moved even closer, and she did the only acceptable thing at that moment: she closed her eyes, delegating to her other senses the task of capturing what would happen next. Their lips found the top of her head in a soft, chaste seal. Too respectful. It wasn’t what she had expected.
“A kiss seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” he whispered, pulling back slightly, his fingers still on her face. “I’ll take you home today, girlfriend.”
*
*
*
After Matt left the room, it took a few minutes for Camila to return to normal. She still felt her face warm, as if his touch had left a trail of fire on her skin.
What was wrong with her?
For a brief moment, Camila imagined he would kiss her. A real kiss, with tongue and everything. She cursed under her breath, her legs moving nervously as she tried to process everything that had happened.
Out of nowhere, her life had taken a 360-degree turn.
And what was she doing? At any moment, someone could walk into the room and find Camila on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Okay, it was just about maintaining normalcy. A fake relationship, she laughed, no one would believe that.
Determined, she left the room and even managed to smile as she passed a few familiar faces in the hallway. No one at work should know about this. When she finally reached her cubicle, the colorful Post-its, the pink pom-pom pens, and the watermelon candies gave her a false sense of normalcy. She even thought she could keep her mind occupied for the rest of the afternoon.
Sweet illusion.
It was the third time Camila’s eyes returned to the beginning of the release, unable to comprehend any of the words written there. Great, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Clare Davis, who sat in the cubicle next door, shot her curious glances. Camila didn’t feel much sympathy for her; the blonde was a bit annoying, full of unwanted advice.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Uh-huh, sure.” Camila didn’t pay her any attention, restarting the paragraph once again. “Couldn’t be better. And you?”
“Oh, yes. Are you going to the pub this Friday? This time it’s better to take it easy on the drinks.” Her laughter was an irritating sound. “You know, when I started drinking…”
“Sorry, Ms. Davis, but can we talk later?” It was useless trying to concentrate; with that in mind, Camila stood up again. “I need to take care of something.”
“But you just got back…”
Camila ignored her words, preferring to plot her next move. She took her VISA card from her bag and dashed to the cafeteria next to the office. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. Camila ordered a Choco-Mint Delight and a Raspberry Caramel Latte, with extra whipped cream, along with lemon tarts. When she returned to the building, she headed straight for the human resources department.
Emma quickly noticed her approach, her blue eyes shining when she saw what Camila was carrying.
“Is this for me?” a sparkling smile curved her lips.
“You’re the only person I know who likes chocolate mint.” Camila teased, though her voice had a playful tone.
Camila had met Emma D’Arcy the day she delivered her resume to The London Herald. They quickly became friends, as if they had known each other their whole lives. Camila believed that few people were lucky enough to have a friendship like that.
“Unfortunately, few people have my good taste,” Emma boasted, sighing as she took her first sip of the drink. “Thanks, but you know I hate beating around the bush. Spit it out.”
Camila’s shoulders slumped. It was somewhat irritating that Miss D’Arcy— as she liked to call her friend— knew her so well. To buy some time, she took a long sip of her latte, running her tongue over her lips to clear the whipped cream.
“Can we go to your office?”
Emma whistled, looking genuinely impressed. “Wow, you’re serious. Come on.” She grabbed Camila by the arm, guiding her until they were safe from prying eyes and ears. Emma sat in her swivel chair, taking another sip before speaking. “Tell me everything.”
Although she loved her friend, Camila decided to take the confidentiality of her fake boyfriend seriously. There were some humiliations that shouldn’t be shared. Months or years later, when everything turned into a funny story, she could consider sharing it with someone. So she said, “Let’s just say there’s a possibility I’m interested in Matt Smith.” It wasn’t a total lie; if she were generous, there was a third of truth in it.
Emma’s eyes widened. “You have a crush on Matt ‘Hot’ Smith?”
Camila frowned, nibbling on the lemon tart to buy more time. “Maybe.” It was truly excruciating to appear interested and indifferent at the same time. “What do we know about him?”
“I knew it!” Emma squealed, raising her extra-large smoothie cup. “Of course, that would be bribery, you little opportunist.” She laughed, the sound contagious. Before Camila knew it, she was laughing too. “What wouldn’t we do for friendship, right? You’re so lucky to have me as a friend.”
“I know,” Camila replied dramatically. “Never forget the love I have for you, Miss D’Arcy.”
“I won’t forget,” Emma said, running a hand through her short hair. The strands had returned to their dark blonde color, silkier than ever. “But don’t think I won’t be expecting more from you, my lovely.”
“You deserve all the smoothies in the world, my dear.”
Emma opened a satisfied smile, enjoying the cheap flattery Camila had to offer. “Let’s get to the point.” She took another sip before spinning in her chair, opening a drawer, and quickly starting to sort through the files. “Resume, resume… where are you?”
Having a friend in the human resources department was an unprecedented advantage. In that moment, Camila felt more grateful than ever for having made the right friendship.
It might be somewhat unethical, but didn’t they say that all’s fair in love and war?
“Ah, there you are. Perfect.” Emma pulled out a folder, spinning back to face her desk.
Camila felt her fingers tingle, desperate to see what was on Matt’s resume. Good heavens, she was going to faint from anxiety.
“Ready?” Emma asked, her voice shrill with excitement.
“No suspense, just open it already!” Camila exclaimed, leaning over the desk.
Emma laughed but promptly opened the folder, beginning to read. “Matthew Robert Smith. Bachelor’s in Marketing from the University of Cambridge, how bourgeois. Worked at Urban Pulse Media, Echo Advertising, and Brixton Creative Agency. Led the Green Brixton campaign and managed the rebranding project at Urban Pulse Media, and blah blah blah.” Emma lowered the resume, using her straw to eat more whipped cream. “He has an interest in soccer, zero surprise,” she teased before continuing, “travel, and technology. Nothing groundbreaking. Want to read the rest?”
“Of course,” Camila shot back, spinning the resume around so she could read it herself.
Matthew Robert Smith
Address: 759 Mayfair Road, Mayfair, London, SW9 8BQ
Phone: +44 20 8634 65791
Email: [email protected]
LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/matt-smith-marketing
Professional Summary
Creative and dynamic marketing professional with over 5 years of experience in developing and implementing high-impact marketing campaigns. Specialized in digital strategies, branding, and audience engagement. Proven skills in leadership, communication, and data analysis to drive brand growth and enhance online presence.
Camila quickly read through the rest of the information. There was too much, and it wasn’t like his professional background was what really mattered.
“Okay.” She lifted her gaze, meeting Emma’s eyes. “Any additional information?”
“You should gather this information at the pub like a normal person. Almost the entire team enjoys happy hour there.”
“I don’t like drinking; you saw what happened last time. Enough humiliation, tell me everything. Don’t hold back any details.”
“You seem quite interested, Mila,” Emma narrowed her eyes. “You know he’s Mr. Charming himself, dresses well, and has that killer smile. Considering you had access to insider information, tell me you’re not planning to show up naked at his place.”
“What?” Camila squeaked, her face turning a bright shade of red.
Emma laughed. “I’m just kidding! I love seeing you blush like that. Anyway, I haven’t talked much to him one-on-one, so I don’t think I can help beyond that. But I’m not opposed to the idea of you paying him a visit; you know, at some point, you’ll need to dust off those cobwebs.”
“You’re terrible. But thanks, though I’m going to pass on your kind suggestion.”
The blonde shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Camila sighed, glancing sadly at her empty latte cup. “I have to get back before Clare Nosy Davis decides to comment on my absence.”
“Ugh, I can’t stand her,” Emma huffed. “Keep me updated on the situation, and don’t forget to buy some new lingerie. In moments like this, you should be prepared for any surprises.”
“Emma!” Camila reprimanded, getting up from her chair. “You should take your own advice, you know?”
Just then, someone knocked on the door and entered after two taps. The scent of vanilla immediately gave away who it was.
Olivia Cook entered, carrying a stack of files. Camila always thought she looked like a porcelain doll, with her delicate features. Noticing Emma wasn’t alone, she said, “Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy.”
“No, no,” Emma waved her off, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Camila was just about to leave, right?”
Under Emma’s sharp gaze, Camila pressed her lips together tightly to suppress a smile.
“Of course,” she stepped aside, offering Olivia a kind smile. “Emma’s all yours, dear.”
Camila slipped out before she received a kick. This brief distraction was enough to relieve some tension from her shoulders.
Back at her cubicle, Camila drummed her fingers on her thigh, ignoring the scrutinizing look Clare occasionally shot her way. It was okay; knowing a bit more about Matt calmed her, at least a little.
With her nerves settling, she managed to draft an article about the launch of the new youth athlete development program by SportsWave Innovations.
Before she knew it, it was 5:58 PM, the end of her workday. Camila shut down her computer and carelessly organized the files on her desk, trying not to think too much about the fact that she wouldn’t be taking the subway today. After popping a watermelon candy in her mouth and slinging her bag over her shoulder, she headed to the elevator, unable to resist checking herself out in the mirror.
A white turtleneck sweater, a black plaid skirt, tights, and black boots. She looked well put together. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a dark waterfall down to her waist. In an involuntary gesture, she grabbed her gloss from her bag and applied it to her lips.
“What on earth are you doing, Camila?” she scolded herself.
Before the doors opened, she stuffed the gloss back in her bag and entered the lobby of the office building, feeling a flutter in her chest at the sight of Matt. He was seated on a sofa, relaxed, lazily flipping through a pocket-sized book. Some strands of his brown hair fell over his forehead. Camila’s fingers itched to tuck them behind his ear.
Damn it, what kind of thoughts are those?
When Matt noticed her approach, he stood up, putting the book away, and flashed a smile full of secrets. Standing in front of him, Camila forgot she was nearly eight inches shorter than him. She had to lift her face to look him in the eye.
“Hey,” he greeted, taking a step toward her.
“Hey,” Camila replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Shall we go?”
“Sure.”
It was a bit disconcerting to have Matt beside her, walking toward the parking lot, having all his attention while she gave him her address. His presence set Camila’s nerves on edge. In her entire career at The London Herald, this was only the second time she had been alone with him—the first time was earlier in the afternoon when he suggested the fake dating idea—and it didn’t help that he remained perfectly calm as if he had been in other fake relationships before. Getting into the black Dodge, she was bombarded by the typically masculine, woodsy scent.
Unable to contain her tongue any longer, which usually happened when she reached peaks of stress, words floated out of her mouth.
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
Crap, crap, crap. What was her damn problem? Of all the things she could have said, she had to mention sex?
Matt froze, his hand halfway to the ignition. One second passed, then another, until he turned his neck, his eyes skeptical.
“Please don’t tell me you thought I had that in mind when I suggested…”
“No!” Camila interrupted, unsure of where to put her face. “Of course not, I just… Well, it doesn’t hurt to clarify things.”
“Let me be clear: if my intention had been to sleep with you, I wouldn’t have made that proposal.” His eyes slowly roamed her body as if she were an exhibit. “Believe me, if that were my intention, I would have…” To her surprise, a shy smile broke across his face. “Never mind.”
Camila swallowed hard, unable to hold his gaze. It was too easy to imagine what would have happened if he had really wanted to sleep with her. It felt as if she had reverted back to a silly teenager filled with perverted ideas.
“Um, we should get going; the traffic is awful at this hour.”
Fortunately, Matt started the car.
“Alright, I know you’ve got a lot of noisy thoughts in your head.” She widened her eyes, momentarily foolishly believing he could read her wicked thoughts, but he continued, “What are your other terms?”
Through the window, she could see the endless line of cars on the avenue. It would be a long drive to her home in Fulham.
“No one at the paper can know about this,” she gestured with her hand. “And I still haven’t decided what favor to ask. Aren’t you scared? I could ask for a house, you know. Or worse, I could ask for all the money in your bank account.”
Matt flashed a dazzling smile that could belong to the devil himself, his voice soft like velvet as he said, “Ask me for the moon if you want. I’ll find a way to pull it down from the sky for you.”
It was impossible to tell if he was joking. At that moment, nothing was more dangerous in the world than his sweet tongue.
“And what if I asked for your heart?” she asked, hating the breathlessness in her voice.
Matt’s eyes darkened, and he stared at her for a long moment before replying.
“I would give it to you.” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Any request; that was our agreement.”
Camila nodded, concluding that she was on unknown and dangerous ground. It was better to return to a safe place, one that didn’t make her heart want to leap out of her chest.
“And you? What are your terms?”
“Call me by my name. Boyfriends do that, don’t they?”
“Mathew. Matt.” She tried them out, tasting how the letters felt on her tongue. “Which do you prefer?”
He smiled sweetly, leaving her slightly speechless. “Matt is fine. We also need to have at least a basic understanding of each other. I don’t want to come off as an uninterested boyfriend.”
“Hmm… What’s your favorite color?”
“It depends on the moment, but lately…” he paused, his eyes fixed on the road. “I’d say brown.”
“Brown? You can’t be serious.” She gave him a skeptical look, arms crossed. “I’ve never met a single person who likes brown.”
“You’re meeting the wrong people, love. I like brown; it’s a warm color, don’t you agree?” Stopped in traffic again, he asked, “But what about you, Miss Favorite Color Inspector? What color do you prefer?”
“Oh, I don’t really have a favorite. But I’d say blue, like a normal person would,” she replied with false arrogance. “The same blue as a cloudless sky. I could spend hours just admiring that heavenly hue.”
“Charming. My turn to ask… hmm, let’s see… are you allergic to anything? Don’t look at me like that; it’s a pertinent question.”
“Matt!” she exclaimed, amused. “Please, you’re not even trying.”
“Answer. I didn’t say anything about your excellent question.”
“Ah, fine. I’m not allergic to anything, and you?”
“Me neither.” He laughed, a wonderful sound. “We should go on a date; it’s unlikely we’ll get through all the important questions now. It’s already the 21st, which means we have a lot to learn about each other before Christmas.”
“I agree.” Camila said, though the idea of having a date with him—fake or not—was somewhat daunting.
“Great, tomorrow you’ll be all mine, understood?”
Damn it, why did her damned mischievous mind see double meanings in everything? Containing the urge to leap out of the car, Camila nodded.
“Of course.” What else could she say? “Where do I meet you?”
“I’ll come pick you up.” He replied simply.
Camila shifted in her seat, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy. It was simple; she was a normal person, so acting like one shouldn’t be difficult.
“What time? And where are we going?”
“In the afternoon, at 5 PM. It’s a surprise, so wear something casual.”
“You’re terrible,” she huffed. There were few things Camila disliked more than surprises.
“I do my best,” he said, his words shaped by a smile.
As she looked more closely at the interior of the car, she noticed the care Matt took in keeping it clean. The mats were spotless, there was no trash, and the back seat was occupied only by a forgotten leather jacket. Unconsciously, her eyes were drawn to the hand he kept on the steering wheel. Male hands were a sensitive topic for Camila, and Matt had a nice pair. When she realized she was staring at the prominent veins on his pale skin, she decided she needed to find a safe topic.
“Is your family going to find it strange if you show up with a girlfriend they’ve never heard of?”
He shook his head, glancing at her briefly with a half-smile before making a left turn. “They’ll probably beg me to marry you already.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is that the level of desperation they’ve reached?”
“Now you understand my suffering?” A breath of laughter escaped his thin lips. “Don’t let Aunt Muriel get to you; she loves to nag Emilia and me about kids. Ever since my sister’s wedding, she’s been knitting baby booties. But other than that, she’s an innocent old lady, and I believe she’ll be getting some good news soon.”
“Your sister…?” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“Yes.” He smiled widely, genuinely, nothing like those feline grins. The dimples in his cheeks made him even more charming, as if the news of becoming an uncle was a dream come true.
“Wow.” Camila blinked, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile that mirrored his. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you!” He turned his eyes back to the road, the traffic easing up. “Now, not only will they pressure me about marriage, but they’ll start demanding grandkids.” He sighed.
“But you want those things, don’t you?” The question slipped out before she could hold it back.
“Of course I do!”
“Then why—”
“I don’t want to rush into making the wrong choice. When I marry, it has to be for love. Marriage is a sacred bond, unbreakable; it shouldn’t be taken lightly. A child is an even greater responsibility, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if I couldn’t provide them with a loving home.”
Camila’s mouth fell open in surprise. That wasn’t quite the conclusion she expected.
“Matt Smith, you’re a hopeless romantic,” she declared, still trying to recover from the shock his words had caused.
“Well, thank you; that’s quite a compliment.”
“Which makes me question why you want to introduce a fake girlfriend to your family. That’s not the kind of behavior you’d expect from a romantic.”
He sighed. “Not this topic again?” In the absence of a response, he continued, “I’ve said it before; I would hate for you to spend another lonely Christmas.”
“Great.” She huffed, turning her gaze to the window. “No need to answer. Oh, you can turn here; it’s quicker this way.”
Matt promptly obeyed. They were now just a few blocks from the small building where Camila lived. She hoped her neighbor, Mrs. Jones, wouldn’t notice the car. Apparently, her romantic life was of great interest to the elderly woman.
“We need to address another matter,” she said, making a Herculean effort not to twist her fingers.
“What matter?”
“Remember when you mentioned romantic comedies earlier?” He nodded. “Do you know what they all have in common? They always, always find a way to make the couple kiss at the most inconvenient moment.” The heat of embarrassment burned on her face, but she pressed on. “And we need to seem comfortable with each other. Couples are at ease with physical proximity; it would be strange if we were all inhibited around each other.”
Camila regretted what she had said the next moment. Why did her mouth have to spew such atrocities from time to time? This character flaw was certainly a consequence of the fall she had suffered when she was a baby.
When silence fell in the car, she thought a miracle had happened and Matt had not heard any of her foolish words. But then she felt his hand on her knee, his touch firm and warm. He drew half-moons lazily. The air caught in Camila's lungs and she felt like one of those young ladies in period romances, all embarrassed after a simple touch.
"Are you okay?"
His voice had dropped a few octaves. Camila didn't look at him, trying – unsuccessfully – to pay attention to the residential street when she answered weakly: "Yes."
His fingers insinuated themselves a little upwards, on the threshold between respectful and indecent, squeezing her leg in a caress worthy of a lover. Camila swallowed hard, but said nothing. It had been her idea after all.
“What now?” he asked again.
“I’m fine.” It was so easy to lie.
She looked at him just in time to see a small smile spread across his face. With one last caress, he pulled his hand away so he could park the car. She had barely realized they had reached the building. The newly imposed distance made her shoulders relax.
This farce would never work. It was way beyond what her nerves could handle. Who was she trying to fool? Worse, how the hell had she agreed to a fake relationship? She was determined. She would end this farce once and for all. She would run to her apartment and then quit the newspaper so she would never see Matt’s face again. That would save her a lot of embarrassment. But before she could say anything, he said:
“Are you sure?” She almost jumped in surprise, but then I remembered that there was no chance of him reading her thoughts. “You said yourself that we’re not in a romantic comedy. Are you really going to kiss me?”
She shrugged, praying to appear as indifferent as possible. “Couples kiss, it would be strange if we spent a few days together without exchanging a single kiss.”
Matt turned his torso, moving a little closer, a smile on his lips. It was easy to forget that there were other people in the world. She didn't look away and didn't let herself be intimidated by the bites of embarrassment, the feeling of her stomach sinking when his eyes focused on her lips.
“Are you sure this isn't just an excuse to kiss me?” he teased, his voice softer than velvet.
“Don't be ridiculous.” He scolded, feeling her heartbeat in her ears. “If we kiss now, it won't be a surprise later, it will be something easy to deal with, natural. Are you that bad a kisser?”
He put a hand to his chest theatrically. “No need to offend, love, and anyway, you'll find out soon enough. The most interesting thing about all this is that just now you said—“
“Matt!” she exasperated, taking an extra large dose of courage before speaking again. “Shut up and kiss me already.”
The smile that curved her lips could easily belong to a fallen angel. It was as if the air was thin, Camila could have been on the arid plains of Mars and she wouldn't have noticed a difference. Without a word, Matt raised a hand, without breaking eye contact, curling his fingers around her neck, lifting her face delicately.
“Close your eyes.”
Camila did so. Every detail magnified: the soft warmth of his hand on her skin, the fresh scent of mint that emanated from his breath, and the almost imperceptible sound of a sigh escaping her lips.
The touch of his lips on hers was as light as the brush of a wing. At first, the kiss had been a simple peck, shy, almost hesitant. But then, like a fire slowly gaining strength, he moved his mouth against hers, first kissing the upper one and then doing the same with the lower one, slowly forcing her to part her lips. Matt held her more firmly, his fingers intertwining in her hair, pulling her closer as he invaded her mouth with his experienced tongue. The kiss became more intense, urgent. It was as if she were drowning.
Matt kissed her as if the world were going to end at any moment, as if that were the reason for his existence.
Camila brought a hand to his chest, quickly registering the firmness beneath her fingers, returning the kiss with equal intensity. God, how good he was a kisser! If someone asked her name now, she wouldn't be able to answer.
And when they finally separated, they were both breathless, her eyes still closed, her face burning with the heat of the moment. The touch of his lips still seemed to be imprinted on hers, as if it were something that could never be erased. Camila opened her eyes slowly, dazed, trying somehow to meet her need for oxygen.
It was a mistake to look at his mouth, it was swollen
Matt returned her gaze, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Somehow, he had become even more attractive. A cheeky smile spread across his face. “So, do I kiss badly?”
She shrugged, trying to fix her hair to buy herself some time. It could have been the best kiss of her life, of course, if it weren’t a complete sham. No matter how delicious it had been, it meant absolutely nothing.
“It wasn’t that bad,” she finally replied, forcing the words out.
Camila was surprised when he gently touched her face, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger, compelling her to meet his gaze.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?”
“I’m not lying, I…” she trailed off as he traced his finger around her mouth, wiping away the smudged gloss. His gaze had become unbearably intense, as if he were about to kiss her again at any moment.
“Sorry, what were you going to say?”
She swallowed, deciding she needed to get out of the car before she had a nervous breakdown. She hoped her legs were steady again. She couldn’t bear the embarrassment of tripping on the car door.
“I need to go in. See you tomorrow?”
He leaned back, blinking several times before agreeing, flashing her a charming smile. “See you tomorrow, love.”
#fake dating#matt smith#fanfiction#christmas#romance#fluff#emma d'arcy#olivia cooke#holiday drama#Matt Inspired#christmas fic#comedy#mild angst#matt
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*drops in lil tumblr mail box and runs away*
I need us Tenlark shippers to be canon in the cfdau universe. Can you imagine? I'd totally send fanart portraits of Tenar to Nancy.
Do you think the cast members of Erathia get fan gifts and collect them? Does the cast have their own favorite movie merch? And were there any goofy action figures?
oh my god my girlssssss they're so precious! also?? slap scene my beloved???? i love <3
pretty sure this whole tenlark phenomenon started with me mentioning that there were tenlark shippers mailing zines to each other back in the 80s/90s. we're absolutely canon here
also, yes to the fan gifts! it's actually mentioned (briefly and vaguely) in both the cfdau and later on in the nancy pov--Nancy has a lil console table that, when she moves into her apartment, Max and Robin decorate with fan gifts and letters she's gotten over the years
also i've never thought about it before but now that you mention it yes there absolutely were goofy action figures. Arren's and Moss's were the most popular, but there was a special edition version of Lark that came with her horse and if you could get your hands on that you were the coolest kid in school
as for favorite movie merch, i'm absolutely making this up on the fly, but...
Dustin thought the line of Erathia trading cards was the coolest thing in the world when he was a kid, and it's still his favorite thing to sign to this day.
Steve has a surprising soft spot for all the really little, dorky things like Erathia pez dispensers and erasers and stuff. Max has an extremely worn t-shirt from the first film that probably belonged to Robin at some point, but she's had it for so long that no one really knows for sure.
Nancy's is a Tenar doll that released after the third film where she's in her princess gown, but if you take the dress off underneath it she's wearing her armor. It comes with her sword too and she secretly thinks it's the coolest Erathia merch they ever released.
And as for Robin, she tells people that her favorite merch is the silly little Tenar elf ears they tried to sell for a very limited time back in '84, and that answer never fails to make Nancy all flustered and huffy. But in reality her answer is her VHS of the first film, simply because she got the entire cast to sign it at some point and it's always been on her TV stand in every home she's lived in ever since
#oof this got long but gosh what fun#sweepy-stringbean#asks#rae! i am delighted and astounded by your work as always#tenlark#celebrity fake dating au#they're so sweeeeet ahhhh#i can't BELIEVE i've been blessed with surprise sweepy stringbean art#it's like christmas came early <3
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Home for the Holidays Pt. 2 (M)
pairing: jungkook x f. reader
genre: fake dating au, f2l, christmas au, smut [18+] Put your age in your bio so you don’t get blocked please 💜 this is an 18+ blog
summary: Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad.
You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.
wc: 14.3k
warnings: pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, honey, love, darling, good girl, doll), food/food mention, mention of conning JK's grandmother, mention of a blowup doll, making out, marking (scratching, biting, hickeys), jungkook has a motorcycle but his grandmother forbids him from using it while she's there, mention of jungkook's grandfather's death, one-bed trope, mention of slot machines, mention of a breeding kink, reader is on the pill, mention of being self-conscious (reader), mention of drowning in melting snow due to embarrassment, hair pulling, jungkook is a consent king (and it's hot af, okay?), fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral sex (f. giving), unprotected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, creampie
a/n: a HUGE thank you to @btsgotjams27 for allowing me to scream about this JK in her inbox for weeks! and for helping me go over the ending! thank you, thank you, thank you!
read part one here
date: January 12, 2024
The moment you set foot in Jungkook’s family home, it was like stepping foot in a department store the day after Thanksgiving.
Holiday decor sits on every inch of the living room wall—there are snowflakes, snowmen, Santas, and jolly words on every bit you see.
A giant Christmas tree takes up a large portion of the living room in a corner far from the fireplace. Large red bows hung from the branches, and a gold star sat on the top. A candle on the coffee table burns, filling the home with its vanilla cookie scent.
The dining room had an elegant arrangement of candles and ribbons. A glass jar of red and gold ornaments sat in the middle as a centerpiece.
“Jungkook!” Came an elated greeting from the kitchen. An older woman came rushing toward him, her hands cupping his cheeks as she hugged him tightly.
Jungkook grunted when he was pulled to her height, swaying side to side as she hugged him.
“Never leave me,” she nearly sobbed dramatically. You bit back a laugh.
“Mom,” Jungkook wheezed. “You’re scaring my girlfriend. She doesn’t know you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” his mom laughs as she squeezes him one last time before releasing him.
“Mom!”
Jungkook’s mom ignored him as she stepped toward you.
“Hello,” you wave meekly. You introduce yourself, and she smiles.
“I’m Aera,” Jungkook’s mom introduces herself as she pulls you into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you! Jungkook said nothing but good things about you. I swear he’s so in love!”
“Mom!” Jungkook hissed as he ran his hand over his face.
You giggle, linking arms with Aera. “Is that so?”
Jungkook watches as the two of you head toward the kitchen, arm in arm, while he rolls the suitcases further into the house after shutting the front door.
“Oh, Jungkook,” his mom says as she has you sit at the table. “You’re in Seojun’s old room, and this sweetheart is in yours.”
Jungkook nods as he locks eyes with you, silently asking if you’ll be okay for a few minutes while he takes the luggage upstairs.
“Here,” Aera hands you a small dessert. “Seojun made these just for you. You’ll meet him tomorrow along with his fiancée, Saraí.”
“Ooh, chocolate,” you grin as you take the chocolate and take a bite. You moan from how good it tastes, melting right on your tongue.
Aera claps her hands, turning on her heel as she grabs a few more desserts for you to try.
By the time Jungkook joins you, you’re on your third dessert.
“Mom,” he sighs. “Please don’t force-feed my girlfriend. She just got here.”
Aera frowns at her son. “Fine. You open up.”
Jungkook dodges a brownie bite and sits beside you. His mom heads back to the kitchen to grab drinks as the front door opens and shuts.
“Sorry,” Jungkook apologizes. “I told her to wait at least thirty minutes before she stuffed you full of chocolate and desserts.”
“Hello,” a voice calls. You smile, though nerves still eat at you when you realize Jungkook’s father has arrived home.
“Dad!” Jungkook rises from his seat to hug his dad tightly. Jungkook looks just like him, though a little taller and broader.
You rise from your seat, wiping your hands on your pants in a poor attempt to clean them.
You introduce yourself to Jungkook’s dad, shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you, honey. I’m Dae.”
“We’re gonna go get settled in,” Jungkook says as he takes your hand. “We’ll be down for dinner.”
“When am I seeing Jimin, Joon, Tae, Jin, and Yoongi?” Aera asks her son. “It’s bad enough that Hoseok won’t join us this year.”
“He had plans, Mom,” Jungkook explained.
“Love, the kids just got home to their parents. Let them take their shoes off before you host a reunion,” Dae chuckles. Aera nods, going for her house phone to ring up Jimin’s mom across the street to chat about their boys.
Jungkook uses the distraction to lead you toward the stairs.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook groans as he plops down on the desk chair of his old bedroom. “I thought I had a minute or something before she started feeding you.”
“It’s okay,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Your mom is just excited.”
“I’ll say,” Jungkook grumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem! Besides, those brownie bites are delicious!”
Jungkook chuckles. “There’s plenty more downstairs. Lemme show you around.”
Jungkook shows you where the bathroom is. His room is across the hall from yours, while his parents' room is further down the hallway. There’s another stairway upstairs that leads to the entertainment/game room. Downstairs is an office, a guest bathroom, and a laundry room.
The backyard is through the back door in the kitchen, and the door near the living room leads to the garage. It’s all pretty simple to memorize. You’ll mostly be on the second floor unless you have to use the kitchen or living room.
By the time you’re back in the kitchen, Jimin’s sitting at one of the chairs with a plate full of brownies and a glass of milk. He gives you a chocolaty smile as Mrs. Jeon sets a plate of cookies beside him.
“Got enough to share, Jimin?” Jungkook asks as he pulls a chair out for you before he sits beside you.
“No,” Jimin swallows his bite and downs half a glass of milk.
“Jimin,” Aera laughs, and Jimin reluctantly pushes the plate of cookies toward you and Jungkook.
“So,” Dae smiles at you. “How did you and Jungkook meet?”
“School.”
“Jimin.” You say, cringing at Jungkook’s answer being different from yours.
His parents look confused for a moment before Jimin speaks up.
“I met her in one of my classes, and we became friends. Then Jungkook stole her from me,” Jimin jokes.
Jungkook turns red. “I didn’t steal her! You said you were just friends!”
You laugh with his parents. The two men bicker back and forth like children.
“I always had a crush on Jungkook. The moment I saw him, I knew he was special,” you admit. Jungkook pauses his fake fight to look at you; his eyes are soft, and something sparkles deep within.
Even Jimin stares silently. He knew you had a crush on Kook the moment you laid eyes on him, but there was no way you were this great of an actress. After all, he had been the one to go with you to audition for Cinderella, and you tanked. Sorry to say so.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet?! True love!” Aera sings as she clasps her hands.
“Mom!” Jungkook protests, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. Perhaps he should have prepared you for his over-enthusiastic parents.
“I hear wedding bells!” Aera continues until Dae grabs her and leads her out of the room.
“Come on, let’s go get their pajamas.”
The three of you wait until you hear their footsteps disappear up the stairs.
Jimin exhales dramatically. “You couldn’t even get the first lie correct?”
“We tried!” Jungkook hisses in response.
“Yeah,” you nod vehemently. “We got it right anyhow. We just fumbled a bit. No biggie.”
“The group chat isn’t gonna like this,” Jimin sighs. “Are you sure you can pull this off without us here?”
“It was just a little mishap,” Jungkook waved his hand. “We’ve got this.”
Jimin looks unsure but says nothing else as he gulps his milk down and rises from his seat.
“Okay, I better get back to my family. I only snuck out for treats.”
You laugh as you hug him after he’s set his glass in the dishwasher.
“Come around whenever,” Jimin instructs, kissing your forehead before waving to Jungkook.
“What’s up next?” You ask your boyfriend.
“Probably Christmas pajamas and a movie, then dinner and bedtime,” Jungkook replies as his parents' footsteps come down the stairs.
“Here they come.”
The evening flies by after you receive your pajamas. You thank the Jeons profusely as you put them on.
The couple has gone to bed, leaving you and Jungkook to finish the last two minutes of the movie.
Jungkook begins to clean up as soon as the credits roll before the two of you head up the stairs.
Hushed voices greet you as you reach the landing.
“I don’t know, Dae. Something seems fishy,” Aera said softly.
“You’re overthinking this, love. Maybe they’re just respectful or shy.” Dae countered.
“Well, Saraí and Seojun were always kissing and hugging. It just seems a little off.” Aera states.
Jungkook looks at you, worry evident on his face.
“Maybe they’re not as comfortable with PDA. That’s fine by me,” Dae chuckles as he tells his wife to go to bed.
Aera does so reluctantly.
Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom you are occupying for your stay. He shuts the door as quietly as possible before he sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him.
Once you’re on the bed sitting beside him, he wrings his hands in his lap.
“I suppose we need to be more hands-on,” he states nervously.
“How about we wake up early tomorrow and watch a movie in the living room? We can cuddle and kiss a little when we hear them get up,” you suggest.
Jungkook nods in agreement.
“Do you need anything before I go?”
You walk Jungkook to the bedroom door. You bite your bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy. He is your fake boyfriend, though.
“A goodnight kiss?”
Jungkook’s cheeks warm at your words, but he gently grips your chin with his fingers before he presses his lips to yours. Your hands grip his shirt, holding him close as the kiss deepens and your lips muffle his moans.
“Good night,” Jungkook whispers with one last kiss to your lips.
“Good night,” you whisper as you watch him go. Your heart flutters as you shut the door and press your back against it. You squeal in delight and faintly hear Jungkook chuckle as he heads to his room.
You ignore the heat that rises to your cheeks before scrambling to get into bed.
The next morning, Jungkook shakes you awake gently. “Come on, darling.”
“Mmh,” you whine, swatting at him in your sleep.
Jungkook dodges the next swipe, capturing your hand and kissing your palm.
“Baby,” he whispers as he shakes you again. You curse, peering open one eye and then the other.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you grumble as you sit up. Jungkook grins smugly. “Or I’d bop you on that cute nose of yours.”
Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, babe. My parents will be up soon.”
“I’m sleepy,” you huff but get out of bed and follow Jungkook downstairs. He’s already got a movie playing in the background and two mugs of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table.
You try not to squeal in excitement when you see he’s poured yours into a snowman mug.
By the time Jungkook’s parents make their way downstairs, the both of you are cuddling on the couch. Jungkook’s got your head on his shoulder, feeding you pretzels and holding your hand.
Aera and Dae exchange a look but say nothing other than their morning greetings as they get ready for work.
Dae is out in ten minutes, promising to be home early, while Aera stops by the living room to kiss each of you on the top of your head on her way out.
“Seojun and Saraí will be here for dinner,” she calls as she grabs her keys and heads out the door.
You spend the day with Jungkook watching movies and playing video games upstairs. Jimin and Joon pop in for a quick visit, but their parents call them home for lunch and they leave you alone with Jungkook again.
“I think we’re doing pretty well,” you muse as you hold Jungkook’s hand while he waits for the game to load on the TV screen.
He chuckles. “Seojun might mess it up.”
You giggle, shaking your head.
“I think we’ve got this,” you state as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, and the mole beneath his lip. Jungkook sighs happily, dropping the controller on the carpet before he cups your face.
Fake or not, he genuinely enjoyed kissing you. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so now.
You moan when he pushes you back onto the couch, your legs on either side of his hips. His lips feel soft against yours as your hands slide under his shirt.
“Kook,” you moan softly as you move your head to allow him more room, his lips burning in their wake as he trails kisses down to the collar of your shirt.
Your fingers weave through his long black hair, tugging when his lips nip at your skin. He moans your name softly, groaning when you beg him for more.
His hand grips your hip, squeezing as his hips rock against you. A curse escapes you as you melt beneath his broad shoulders, your nails dragging down his back.
“Fuck, baby.” He groans, his lips finding yours as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips as the kiss deepens. You whine as you feel him press against you, your hands greedy as you pull him impossibly close.
“Shit!” A voice startles you.
You pull away from Jungkook, face warm as Jungkook gets off you.
“Sorry, we should have knocked.” A woman apologizes. She’s shorter than Jungkook and the man beside her. Her hair is curly and black, falling in waves down her back. Her beautiful golden skin appears glowing and rivals the brightness of her smile.
“We did knock,” the man says, looking at her. She jutted him in the ribs with her elbow before turning to Jungkook.
“We’ll be downstairs,” she announced in a rush as she shoved the man out the door before shutting it.
Jungkook groans, hiding his cherry-red face in his hands. “That was Seojun and Saraí.”
“Oh!” You exclaim with wide eyes. “Fuck.”
“Well,” Jungkook said, carding a hand through his hair. “At least Seojun will believe us now.”
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth.
“To be continued?” You’re not sure where this bout of confidence has come from, but you know what you felt, and Jungkook wanted you just like you did him.
“Tonight?” He asks in a sultry tone that makes you tighten around nothing. His dark-hooded gaze makes your pulse rise, and it takes everything in you not to push him onto the couch and continue where you left off.
Jungkook holds your gaze, his tattooed hand resting on your lower back, a little too close to your behind. You bite your bottom lip, and his eyes watch you carefully as you slowly take a step back. Fire builds between you, nearly suffocating you, and you’d gladly let it for another taste of his lips.
“Tonight,” you whisper as you head for the door. You swallow thickly as you eye him up and down, a hunger pooling deep inside you.
Jungkook presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he devours you with his gaze, knowing one more lingering look will be all it takes to have you screaming his name as loud as your lungs allow.
Ten minutes later, Jungkook and you join Seojun and Saraí in the living room. Jungkook introduced you to the couple as he sat beside you on the loveseat.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” Sarai exclaims. “Seojun thought you were imaginary.”
“Babe,” Seojun protests.
“¿Que no?” Sarai asks him with a raised brow. “Didn’t you say Kook probably had a blowup doll?”
Jungkook and Seojun burn brighter than Rudolph’s nose as they sink into the couches. You laugh along with Sarai at the men’s expense.
“I like you,” you said with a bright smile. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”
Sarai smiled, “We have to stick together.”
“Saraí,” Seojun whines. “We just got here. You can’t recruit my little brother’s girlfriend against me already.”
“Why not?” Saraí asks with a mischievous grin.
Seojun groans as he shakes his head, but his smile never dims as he looks at his fiancée. You cuddle up to Jungkook, and his arm drapes around you before he kisses the top of your head, almost second nature.
-
A few hours later, Saraí and you share the couch upstairs while the Jeon brothers fight over the working controller.
Saraí follows you on all your socials as she lies beside you. The both of you laugh as you show each other funny TikToks. Despite only knowing her a short amount of time, you’re glad she’s easygoing and loves to talk. It takes the pressure off you having to recall any information from Joon’s PowerPoint and flashcards, though the information is ready to be pulled at any moment should you need it.
“So then he takes me to the very top of the building,” Saraí gushes as she shows you a photo on her Instagram account. “You know, the ones with the glass panes you can stand on to overlook the city? Well, I was busy looking at the city while Seojun was turning green behind me! He’s terrified of heights, but he knew I wanted to go up there since forever, practically!”
“I almost threw up,” Seojun comments as he gives the controller to Jungkook, he’s no longer interested in fighting his younger sibling over the controller that doesn’t stick.
Saraí laughs. “I turned around to tell him to join me. The view was incredible!”
You hang on her every word as she swipes to another photo.
“And that’s when I noticed the mariachis and Seojun down on one knee. He even had my family there!” Saraí wipes a stray tear as she recounts her proposal and shows you more photos of the grand event.
Seojun smiles at Saraí, hearts in his eyes. He turns to Jungkook with a raised brow. “It’ll be you two before you know it.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jungkook coughs as he looks at you for help. His eyes have tripled in size from panic.
“Yeah,” you nod, feeling like a bobblehead. “We’ve only been together for a bit.”
“Four months?” Seojun asks.
“Five!” You and Jungkook answer in unison, startling the happy couple.
You clear your throat. “Almost six.”
“Nowhere near you guys time together,” Jungkook adds as he nervously tweaks the buttons on the controller.
Saraí waves her hand. “You’ll hear wedding bells before you know it.”
“Yeah,” Seojun chuckles. “Ours.”
The two giggled before you and Jungkook exchanged nervous looks.
How far would you take this?
Dinner passes without incident. Aera and Saraí are elbow-deep in wedding plans, scheduling lunch with Saraí’s mom before the evening ends.
You excuse yourself when your friends show up, and the lot of you head upstairs with a plate of warm cookies accompanied by a tray filled with glasses of milk and mugs of hot chocolate.
Seokjin is on the lookout, watching the door as Joon gets comfortable beside Jimin and Yoongi.
“How’s it going?” Taehyung asks as he takes Jungkook’s phone to upload a few more pictures to Instagram.
“Yeah,” Joon says through a mouthful of cookies. “Jimin says you fucked up the first question Momma Jeon asked.”
“Jimin,” Jungkook hisses.
“The first one?” Seokjin scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Babe, I would have done better.”
“I’m the one who needed to date someone!” Jungkook hisses louder.
Seokjin shrugs. “I said what I said.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at his friends and calms down when you grip his arm.
“His parents thought we weren’t all over each other like Saraí and Seojun. We have to kick it up a little for them,” you state, your lip caught between your teeth.
“Damn,” Yoongi sighs. “If they see through it, your grandmother won’t fall for it, Kook.”
“Don’t give up now,” Jimin insists while holding a rough sketch. “We’ve worked so hard for this. I already started designing my room in Kook’s new place.”
“Give me that,” Jungkook rips the paper from Jimin’s hands and crumples it.
“I have copies,” Jimin smirks.
“Look,” Taehyung speaks up. “We’ve all done our part. We just gotta get through it.”
Namjoon nods. “Tae’s right. We all did what we said we’d do, even Hobi. He’ll be in town before the new year, and we can’t tell him the plan tanked. We all worked too hard for this. Let’s see it out.”
“I’m in,” Seokjin shrugs, feigning nonchalance by looking at his nails.
“Same,” Yoongi and Jimin add with a firm nod.
Joon and Tae look at the two of you.
Jungkook looks at you, and you nod. You were already knee-deep in it; might as well make it to the other side.
“Alright, we’re in,” Jungkook states ruefully.
“Don’t worry, one of us will try to be around when Grandmother Jeon arrives. It’ll be a piece of cake!” Jimin grins.
It was not a piece of cake.
And if it was, it was a shit cake.
Grandmother Jeon rolled up with enough suitcases to rival a traveling circus.
“Mother,” Dae gasps as he greets her at the front door. “What’s all this?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had!” Jungkook’s grandmother huffs as Dae and Jungkook help bring in the suitcases.
Aera dashes to the kitchen for refreshments, and you hurry after her in a panic.
“First, I misplaced my bingo winnings on the train. Then, they threatened to kick me off because Luna wouldn’t stop barking!” Grandmother Jeon looks at all her bags until Jungkook holds one away from him while he pinches his nose.
“Oh, there she is! Kook be a dear and take her outside. Rinse her dog carrier for me. These old bones aren’t what they used to be,” she says as Dae helps her to the couch and then shuts the front door.
“Mother,” Dae said as he sat beside her. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Oh, I didn’t want to be a bother!” She waves her hand about. Her glasses slip down her nose, and her hat is tilted.
“You’re never a bother, Mom,” Dae states as he helps her out of her shoes and faux fur coat.
“Good,” Grandmother Jeon states firmly. “Because Luna and I need a place to stay for the holidays.”
Jungkook freezes with Luna, a yapping black and white chihuahua in his arms. “What?”
Dae sends a glare at his son. “Of course, you can stay with us. What happened?”
“Dang cellphone made my reservations for next Christmas,” Grandmother Jeon huffed. “Dang things are called smartphones, more like dumb phones. Scheduled me for the wrong year!”
Dae exchanges a look with Jungkook, but neither says a word as you and Aera walk into the living room with coffee and cookies.
“Oh, Aera! You look lovely! Keeping my boys in line?” Grandmother Jeon asks with a smile.
“Always! We're so glad you’re staying with us,” Aera says genuinely, hugging the older woman.
“Ooh, you know me. I gotta spread a little holiday cheer everywhere I go,” Grandmother Jeon jokes before she spots you.
“And who is this marvelous woman hiding behind you, Aera?”
Jungkook opens the back door, puts Luna out, and rushes to your side before you can blink.
“Grandmother Jeon, this is my girlfriend,” Jungkook tells her your name, and her eyes light up like the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.
“I’m Grandmother Jeon or Minji, whichever you prefer, dear. Let me look at you,” she coos as she takes your hands and looks you up and down.
“You’re beautiful,” Minji grins widely.
“Thank you,” you smile shyly.
“And you know how to take a compliment. I like that! Confidence and a tough exterior are what you need to wrangle in these boys. They’ll give you more heart attacks than you can handle. Troublesome they are,” Minji shakes her head.
“Mom!”
“Grandmother!”
“What?” Minji raises a brow, daring them to protest further. “Am I lying?”
“No,” Jungkook and his father shake their heads, avoiding eye contact.
“Thought so,” Minji laughs. “Don’t worry, dear. Jungkook is the least troublesome of them all, though that motorcycle I saw on the driveway is enough to earn a lecture, Jeon Jungkook!”
“But-!”
“Jeon Dae, what did I tell you about my grandbabies riding those!” Minji sighs heavily as she lets you go.
“Mother,” Dae starts as Minji rises from the couch. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”
Minji whirls on Jungkook, a sharp, well-manicured nail poking his broad chest. “You stick to driving while I’m here, sweetie. I don’t think my old heart could take it seeing you riding around town on that motorcycle.”
“I promise,” Jungkook raises his hand, and Minji grins, reaching to pinch his cheek.
“Good boy,” she states before releasing him. “Now who’s gonna show this old bag of bones and her pup to her room?”
“Mother, you’re only-” Dae is cut off by a glare so icy it could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants.
“Get my dog, son. She gets cold without her winter wear,” Minji grumbles as she heads towards the stairs. “She’s your little sister, after all. You should treat her as such.”
“Mother,” Dae sighs heavily, but he knows it’s a losing battle. He opens the back door instead, and Luna walks into the home after wiping her feet on the mat.
“Jungkook, sweetie, be a doll and get her wipes from the pink bag for me. I have to get her cleaned up before dinner,” Minji says as Dae hands her the little chihuahua.
“She’s not going to expect Luna to have a seat at the table, is she?” You ask Jungkook’s mom as you watch Dae and Jungkook carry her bags up the stairs.
Aera says your name with a whimsical smile. “Expect the unexpected.”
Jungkook knows you’re trying your best not to stare, but you fail miserably.
Dinner is in the dining room with the large dining table that seats twelve, but there are only eight of you tonight.
Dae sits at the head of the table with his wife on the left and his mother on the right. Beside Aera, Jungkook has taken his spot while you sit beside him. However, you can’t help but look at Luna in her high chair across from him.
Seojun sits across from you with Saraí on his right. She smiles politely as she tries to muffle a laugh in her napkin. She was as surprised as you the first time Minji rolled into town with her dog and the high chair.
You’re sure Luna is eating out of a crystal bowl and drinking from a crystal goblet. The only thing that sparkles more than both is the ring sitting on Saraí’s finger.
“So, sweetheart,” Minji starts as she dabs at her mouth. “How did you meet our Kookie?”
“Mother,” Dae shoots an annoyed look her way that she waves off with a perfectly manicured hand.
“I’m merely curious,” Minji smiles softly, her pearls draped over her bubblegum pink dress. There’s not a silver hair out of place, nor is her lipstick smudged from eating and enjoying a glass of wine with dinner.
“We met through Jimin,” Jungkook answers for you, but Minji continues to stare at you, awaiting a response.
“We met through Jimin at school. Jimin and I shared a class and introduced me to Jungkook and his friends. I had a crush on him since the first time I saw him,” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Jungkook takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before setting it on the table.
“So, who broke first?” Seojun asks with interest, ignoring his “aunt” as she chews on her steak.
“Jungkook,” you giggle as you recite the story Yoongi had concocted. “We went on a walk after dinner one night and he confessed. Asked me out for the next night, and we’ve been dating ever since.”
“We went to the beach for our first date,” Jungkook adds. “Shared a milkshake on the boardwalk.”
“My Kookie finally found someone!” Minji claps her hands, startling the dog beside her.
“Do you have pictures?” Aera questions as she rises from the table.
Luna finishes her meal, and Dae takes her outside while Jungkook and Seojun clear the table. You send Jungkook a wary look, but he smiles in reassurance, mouthing, “You’ve got this.”
“Let’s head to the living room for tea and hot chocolate,” Aera said as she dashed to the kitchen to grab drinks and desserts.
Saraí goes to help her while you help Minji to the couch.
“I don’t know how to snoop on the phone like Seojun loves to do,” Minji laughs as you take your phone out of your pocket.
“Ah, there’s my boy,” Minji says as she adjusts her glasses to look at your Lock Screen. A photo of you and Jungkook in matching Christmas sweaters greets her.
“He looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me before he passed. Love is a magical thing, dear. It can get you through almost anything,” Minji says, full of wonder as she stares off into the distance for a moment before she clears her throat.
Your heart sinks in your chest. Jungkook hadn’t mentioned his grandfather before and seeing Minji now and going through with this plan was making you feel sick.
“I hope we didn’t miss anything,” Saraí sings as she sets down a tray of hot drinks. She hands one to Minji before she takes one for herself.
Aera and Dae join you, while Luna curls up under the Christmas tree on the tree skirt beside the presents.
“I hope we did,” Jungkook utters, only to be elbowed by his older brother.
“I saw a few photos on Instagram this week,” Seojun comments as he grabs a cookie. “You both look cute.”
Saraí helps Aera log into her account so she can see the photos on Instagram while you show Minji the pictures on your phone.
“The two of you are adorable,” Minji coos as you show her another photo. Jungkook watches on from beside his father, the two sharing the couch closest to the fireplace.
For a moment, Jungkook can pretend that it’s real. That you fit into his family perfectly, just like Saraí does. That they adore you just like he does and that you could possibly love him.
Thirty minutes later, Minji is yawning and calling for Luna. The two head upstairs slowly, yawning and wishing everyone a good night.
“Oh, dear,” Aera says as she looks at you and Jungkook. “We gave Grandmother Jeon Seojun’s old room.”
You look at Jungkook with wide eyes.
“You don’t mind sharing Jungkook’s old room, do you?” Aera asked as she and Saraí cleared up the drinks and cookies. “It’ll be just like at home.”
“Um… yeah,” you cough as you look at your feet. “Just like home.”
“Perfect,” Dae says as he helps clean up. “Why don’t the two of you unpack in Jungkook’s room, and we’ll see you in the morning?”
“Sure, Dad,” Jungkook takes your hand, saying goodnight to his family before leading you up the stairs.
On the landing, you hear his grandmother and Luna snoring already, and you wonder how they could fall asleep so quickly.
Jungkook leads you into the bedroom and shuts the door, pressing himself against it.
You’re careful not to trip on his suitcase as you open yours to get your pajamas out. You’ve been following Hoseok’s strict clothing schedule and you’ve sent Hoseok photo confirmation every day so far.
“I’m so sorry,” Jungkook whispers as he walks toward you. “I never thought this would happen.”
“What do we do?”
“I’ll sleep upstairs in the game room,” Jungkook answers. His back already hurts from imagining a night on the lumpy couch.
“Your parents will know something’s up,” you hissed in response.
“I’ll sleep on the floor, then,” Jungkook shrugs. “Problem solved.”
“But it’s your room. Your bed.”
“And I got you into this mess,” Jungkook frowns. “It’s only for a few nights, anyway. No biggie.”
You bite your lip but say nothing as you take your pajamas and step out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom. You change and brush your teeth before going to the room once again.
Jungkook goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his skincare routine before returning to the room.
He grabs extra blankets from the closet and a few pillows before he lies down on the floor.
The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence.
“Well, this is awkward,” Jungkook chuckles.
You throw a stuffed animal at him.
“Jungkook!”
“What? You were thinking about it!”
“You didn’t have to say it,” you grumble as you roll on your side to stare at him. You pull the covers over your shoulders, shivering in your oversized tee and pajama shorts. Hoseok dropped the ball with this one outfit, but maybe he didn’t care too much about your sleeping clothes.
“Goodnight, sweet girlfriend of mine,” Jungkook coos, wiggling his toes in those dreaded toe socks.
“Goodnight,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him.
Wednesday greeted you with Luna’s obnoxious barking.
You groaned as you placed a pillow over your head, hoping to drown out the sound, but alas, it was no use.
“Koo,” you whine, throwing a pillow at him. He grunts in response from his makeshift bed on the floor.
“I hear it too,” he murmurs as he tries to cling to sleep, but it’s useless.
Cursing, Jungkook sits up. He stretches and yawns for a minute before getting to his feet and folding his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. His back and neck would be hating him all day.
With all the excitement of Grandmother Jeon and your new sleeping arrangements, there wasn’t any time for any practice.
Now you have bedhead and morning breath, and god, you hope you don’t have dried drool on the corner of your mouth. You can’t let Jungkook see you like this!
“Close your eyes!” You hiss as you scramble out of his bed.
Jungkook's eyes widen in alarm. “What?! Why?!”
“Just do it! Don’t look at me!” You hiss as you hear the barking move further away. You try to step over your fake boyfriend but trip on a blanket and fall beside him.
Jungkook grunts when you elbow him in the stomach, and before either of you can move, the door opens, and Jungkook’s mother stands there with wide eyes.
“Um, breakfast will be ready in a bit,” she says as she shuts the door as quickly as possible. Perhaps next time she’ll remember to knock, but after the commotion, she was worried someone was hurt.
“Great,” Jungkook sighs as he falls back into his pillows to stare at the ceiling.
What a great way to start his morning.
Jungkook’s parents and grandmother are gone for the rest of the day. Something about slot machines and Grandmother Jeon feeling lucky… or did she say she was gonna get lucky?
“Luna Patrice Jeon,” you huff, stomping your foot as you try to get her coat on her, but she wriggles in Jungkook’s beefy arms.
The two of you were supposed to be outside five minutes ago, and all your friends and their dogs were waiting for you and Jungkook.
Jungkook had managed to put Luna’s booties on, but she was a squirmy little thing when it came to her coat and earmuffs. Minji had been very thorough with her instructions, and Jungkook promised to watch his aunt.
His dog-aunt.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Seokjin coos as he lets himself into the Jeon home.
Luna pants as Seokjin rubs between her ears and easily gets the coat on her. About four inches of snow had fallen overnight, and the dogs were eager to play at the park just down the road.
“There we go, Luna. That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Seokjin grins as he kisses the dog on the forehead and puts the earmuffs on.
“God, he’s a dog whisperer,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but Seokjin ignores him as he sets Luna in the stroller with her blanket and some treats. He zips the stroller shut and carries it out onto the sidewalk.
“I can’t help it if the ladies love me,” Seokjin smirks as he sends a wink your way. You smile bashfully, giggling when he blows you a kiss.
“Hey!” Jungkook stomps his foot. His cute bunny nose scrunching. “You’re my girlfriend!”
“Better keep her close, JK!” Jimin teases as he pushes his dog stroller.
Namjoon and his little dog wear matching coats and booties, leading the group down the road. Taehyung pushes his stroller, where his Pomeranian sleeps wrapped in a fluffy blanket, and Seokjin carries Hoseok’s dog that he may have snatched for this outing.
“Who knew we’d end up pushing strollers this Christmas break instead of clubbing,” Yoongi chuckles as he meets up with you at the end of the block. In his stroller with the spinning rims sits his dog, Holly.
“Almost seems like we’re growing up,” Taehyung wipes a fake tear from his cheek as the group pushes the strollers on the sidewalk.
“Who do you think will push one of these with an actual child first?” Namjoon asks as his dog sniffs the snow, his nose freezing at the contact.
“Jungkook,” the group answers as Jimin and Taehyung push their strollers in a light jog, racing to the first tree they see a few feet away.
“Pfft, why me? I’m the baby,” Jungkook protests.
“Aren’t you the one with the breeding kink?” Yoongi smirks as he walks past the two of you.
Jungkook is left flabbergasted. His face rivals a tomato’s as he feels his ears burn just as bright.
“I told you that in confidence!”
“Whoops!” Yoongi cackles as he joins the race between Tae and Jimin.
Jungkook wonders if four inches of melting snow would be enough to drown him.
You push the stroller with Luna, giggling as you jog past Jungkook.
“Sucks for you!” You call over your shoulder. “I’m on the pill!”
Jungkook curses Yoongi, running after him as he threatens to end the Min line with him.
Namjoon smiles as he walks beside Seokjin, enjoying the chaos he created from his question.
“You’re an evil little man,” Seokjin cackles as Namjoon laughs and follows the group.
Thursday afternoon is filled with last-minute Christmas shopping.
Seojun and Saraí have joined you. Seokjin and Jimin tagged along, but it seemed they weren’t as necessary now as they thought they would be.
Sure, Seokjin still curbed the conversation when you or Jungkook failed to answer a question or two about your relationship, but it wasn’t anything detrimental. The group honestly thought you had this in the bag, and with Christmas only three days away, there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about.
Jungkook rubs his neck for the fifth time. He can’t seem to get rid of the soreness he’s gotten from sleeping on the floor.
You pull him away after you lose Jimin and Seokjin in a department store with blasting Christmas music.
“Sleep with me tonight,” you said as you held Jungkook’s hand in a surprisingly empty aisle. The hustle and bustle of shoppers falls into the background, and all Jungkook can hear is the rapid drumming of his heart.
“W-what?” He stutters with wide eyes. He toys with his lip ring, a nervous habit of his.
“Sleep with me on the bed tonight, Kook. You’re obviously in a lot of pain, and I feel bad.” You frown as you turn him around to rub his neck and shoulders.
Jungkook resists the urge to curse, biting his lip to hide a moan as you get into the muscles. Fuck, he really needed to sleep in a proper bed soon.
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks as he slowly pulls your hands off him to hold in his.
“It’s only for a few more days,” you shrug. “Grandmother Jeon leaves for her cruise before the new year, so why not?”
Jungkook is reluctant, but as a cramp hits his neck.
He nods. “If you’re sure.”
“Definitely,” you smile as you lace your fingers with his to lead him out of the aisle. You lead him out of the store and toward the giant Christmas tree in the center of the mall.
You take your phone out and snap a cute picture of the two of you before looking at it and see mistletoe on one of the branches above your head.
Jungkook blushes as he pecks your lips, but you pull him back in for another kiss. You fist his jacket in your hand as you pull him close, your lips moving with his perfectly as the cool metal of his lip ring brushes your lips. You moan when he nips at your lip, gently sucking it before releasing it.
His dark gaze sends tingles down your spine as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans in to kiss you again.
“Tonight,” Jungkook murmured against your lips, the two of you stuck like magnets, unwilling to pull apart.
“Tonight,” you agree as you kiss him again, your fingers tugging on his lush locks just enough to make him curse against your lips.
“You’ll pay for that, baby,” he groans when you do it again.
“I can’t wait, Koo.”
Your shower takes longer than usual that night. You shave, exfoliate, and lotion every bit of you that Jungkook might touch.
You’re nervous but excited at the thought of him touching you. Just kissing you nearly sends you over the edge sometimes, and the way he grips your hips as if he must be anchored to you to breathe, well, it’s a nice feeling.
By the time you’re climbing into bed, the house is silent. Jungkook turns on his mood lamp, and his playlist plays softly in the background.
He’s made sure to lock the door this time to keep his mother out.
A purple towel is draped over his shoulders as he plops down on the desk chair. He gives his hair one more rub, but he’s already had the hairdryer on it for a bit.
You try not to ogle his bare chest, the colorful sleeve of tattoos grabbing your attention almost
immediately as he sets the towel down.
“Mind if I sleep without a shirt on? I tend to run hot,” he explains as he tongues his ring.
“That’s fine,” you squeak as heat rushes to your cheeks. You pull the covers to your chest, wiggling your toes as you avoid meeting his gaze. Though his abs are now in your view, and your thighs press together in response. What you wouldn’t give to kiss every beautiful ridge of his torso, taking your time on his sensitive brown nipples. You wonder if he’d ever get them pierced.
���Need anything while I’m up, babe?” Jungkook asks as he stretches, his arms raised over his head and you nearly whimper as you feast on his perfect physique.
You’re nearly salivating by the time he’s finished stretching. He tilts his head as he waits for your answer but you blink owlishly and finally meet his gaze.
“Hmm?” You ask as you blink again as he laughs. He shakes his head as he crosses the distance between you, moving the blankets out of the way as he gets into bed with you.
“You’re adorable,” he whispers as he pecks your nose.
You smile, clearing your throat as you lie on the bed. Jungkook turns on his side to face you, and you do the same. His arm drapes over your waist, and you snuggle in closer.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost as if it were a secret. Perhaps it is with the way he strokes your waist, refusing to make eye contact; afraid of what his words will shift.
“I’m glad I’m here too, Kook. I don’t want to be anywhere else,” you admit as his gaze meets yours. He studies you for a few moments. His beautiful eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky, shining brighter and brighter with each passing second until they flutter shut and his lips mold to yours.
“Jungkook,” his name rolls off your tongue so sweetly.
“Yeah, baby?” He asks in between kisses, his hands never straying from your hips until you guide them upward to cup your tits. He curses, dark eyes piercing through your soul as you make him squeeze them.
“Fuck,” you whimper.
Jungkook kisses you again, swallowing your moans as his thumbs brush your pert nipples. Your hands settle on his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he trails kisses down your neck until he hits that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your lids.
“Jungkook,” you sigh as you part your legs for him. He settles between them as your nails rake down his broad muscular back. You’d love to kiss every inch of it. Leave your mark behind for all to see. For now, you’ll settle for your scratch marks, storing each of his delicious sounds for later.
Fiery lips meet yours as his hips rock against you. His hands feel every bit of you, moving when he notes any hesitation.
“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his gaze locked on yours.
You nod.
“I need words, baby,” he says as he brushes his thumb along your jaw. “I need to hear it.”
“Please,” you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his soft doe eyes. “I want it. Want you.”
Jungkook traces your bottom lip with his thumb, admiring your beauty for a moment before he kisses you again as if it were the last time.
Time means nothing to you as you melt beneath him. His hands are hot against your flesh, needy where they meet to pull you closer. Your name escapes him between moans and gasps, your hand guiding him between your legs.
“Please,” you beg as he pushes your shorts to the side, groaning when he feels how wet you are.
“No panties, darling?” He grins as he kisses your jaw and trails downward.
“Didn’t think I needed them,” you gasp when his fingers brush your clit. He’s teasing you. He wants to see how far he can take you before you beg him for more, plead and whine until he gives you just what you need.
Jungkook licks his lips, shaking his long hair out of his eyes before he tongues his lip ring. His breath fans against your heated skin, teeth gently nipping your earlobe as he whispers, “You were right.”
Your thighs shake at the sound of his seductive tone, spreading further for him as he lifts your shirt to bunch above your breasts.
“Keep that right there, baby. Can you do that for me?” He raises a brow, and you nod.
“Yes.”
“Good girl,” he praises, kissing your lips before making his way down until his fingers are tugging on your flimsy sleep shorts.
“Can I take these off?” Jungkook asks as he meets your eyes. You nod, feeling fire pool deep in your belly. You want him desperately, almost embarrassingly, with how soaked you are for him already.
When he doesn’t make a move to take them off, you remember he wants you to be vocal about your consent.
“Yes, please.”
Jungkook pulls the shorts down your legs at a snail’s pace, giving you enough time to change your mind if you wish to. You encourage him by lifting your hips and kicking the shorts off to be lost on his bedroom floor.
You don’t get a chance to be self-conscious as he cups your face and kisses you so deeply, that you almost wonder if he’s in love with you.
The pounding of your heart is deafening as the kiss deepens and his hips press against your cunt. Your name rolls off his tongue, cursing and groaning when his hard cock grinds against you.
“You’ve soaked my sweatpants,” he laughs breathily, and you clench around nothing. Your face feels like it’s burning, but from lust or embarrassment, you’re not sure. Jungkook kisses your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.
“S-sorry,” you apologized as he rubs your clit, his nimble fingers circling it just to make you whine. Jungkook teases your entrance with his tattooed fingers, loving the way you whimper and beg for more, biting your bottom lip to keep from getting too loud.
“Fuck, baby,” you moan when he finally sinks two fingers in knuckle-deep. You clench around them as he slowly fucks them into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he focuses on the rise and fall of your chest.
Jungkook palms his cock with his other hand, moaning softly when your eyes lock. He smirks as you reach for him and he places your hand on his cock.
“Can you take them off?” You ask bashfully, and he chuckles before slowly taking his fingers out of you. He sucks them into his mouth, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he gets a taste of you.
Fuck, he’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the rest of his life if you’d let him.
Your thighs tremble as he steps back, cunt soaked and dripping onto his sheets. You’re the first girl he’s had in his bed like this and he hopes your scent lingers long after you’re back home.
Jungkook is a vision. An Adonis among men. Michaelangelo himself would have shed a tear upon gazing at the masterpiece that is Jeon Jungkook.
Speechless, you reach for him as he chuckles. He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before placing it on his chest.
“Do as you wish, my love,” Jungkook says as he follows your hand with his hooded gaze.
Your brain seems to be empty of all thoughts except Jungkook. His name, his body, that sinful smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He’s eyeing you with mirth, licking his lips as your hand descends until it’s cupping his erection.
“Fuck,” he breathes as you stroke him, your fingers sliding under his boxers to feel the weight of him in your palm. He groans, whispering your name as you continue to stroke him, pausing only to spit in your hand. He takes the moment to tug his boxers off.
Jungkook kisses you as you touch him again, his fingers finding their home between your thighs as he gets you to nearly sing his name in praise as you tighten around him.
“Wish you were wrapped around my fat cock, babe. I’d make you scream even louder,” he goads as you muffle your cries in his broad shoulder right beside his little scar.
“Jungkook, please,” you beg as he kisses you deeply. It’s hot, messy, all teeth and tongues and desperate touches as his cock pressed against your clit. You’re soaking wet, dripping onto the sheets and allowing his cock to glide easily, the fat head bumping against your clit as your legs wrap around him trembling at his sides.
“Koo!” You whine, biting down on his shoulder. Hasty kisses meet his skin as you soothe the pain of your love bite. Your body becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, arching into him as you orgasm, squeezing his fingers until they’re soaked beyond his wrist.
Jungkook cries out your name, lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss that swallows his moans and groans as he cums all over your cunt. His hips rock against you until he’s well spent, cock too sensitive to go on.
“Shit!” He breathes as he lies beside you with his arm over his head.
You’re warm and sticky beside him, his cum coating your skin generously. Jungkook kisses your cheek as he pulls you to him, using his other hand to fix his boxers.
He doesn’t like the way they cling to him and he’ll be sure to clean himself up as well as you before you go to sleep.
Silence fills the space between you as you stare at each other with bashful smiles and gentle touches. Jungkook kisses your lips softly, his fingers caressing your cheek.
“I really do like you, ya know,” he admits, and it sends your heart soaring into the heavens.
You bite back a giant grin as you lace your fingers together. “I really like you too.”
Jungkook blushes, kissing you once more before he climbs out of bed to get cleaned up. He assures you he’ll be back in a few minutes and he cleans you up with a warm washcloth and helps you to the bathroom.
Once you’re both in bed again, he snuggles into you. His fluffy hair splays on your chest as he snores softly. You smile to yourself as you hold back a yawn.
Jungkook sleeps soundly as you stroke his hair, hoping this can be more than just pretend.
Christmas Eve brings a blanket of snow and Seojun and Saraí.
Though you and Jungkook haven’t done more than fool around that one night, you’ve found it hard to keep your hands to yourself.
Seojun, Saraí, and Jungkook took you sledding at one of their favorite spots.
Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were already there when you arrived, holding hands with Jungkook.
“Where are Joon and Seokjin?” You ask as you hide your face from the wind on Jungkook's shoulder. He laughs as he tightens your scarf and kisses your head.
“They went to pick up Hoseok at the train station. Hoseok’s parents are busy prepping for Christmas Eve dinner, and his sister is bringing someone home,” Jimin explains as he hands his sled to Taehyung to take a turn.
“Sounds serious,” Yoongi comments with a sly grin.
“My parents keep asking when I’ll bring someone home,” Jimin sighs. “Are you free next Christmas?”
Jungkook scoffs. “As if.”
“Not you.” Jimin rolls his eyes before saying your name.
Yoongi laughs as Taehyung comes back.
“I don’t think passing me around as a fake girlfriend is what your parents mean, Min,” you shake your head as you take the sled from Taehyung.
Jimin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
Jungkook glares at him before you tug him away to the top of the hill. He helps you onto the sled before he gets on behind you and pushes. You scream and close your eyes as you go down, laughing when you come to a stop moments later.
“Wanna go again?” Jungkook grins as he helps you up. You shake your head as you pat the snow off your clothing.
“I’m good,” you laugh. “Once was enough.”
The trek back up the hill is rough as you stomp in the snow to reach your friends. Jungkook hands the sled to Yoongi as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.
Despite admitting to liking each other, you haven’t talked to determine what that means. For one, you kind of like this limbo you’re in where you’re not not together but also not truly faking either.
At one point or another, you’ll have to have that conversation, but it’s Christmas Eve, and Jungkook looks too cute with his giant snowball.
Oh, no.
He’s heading toward you and Jimin. This is what happens when you get lost in thought. Jimin grabs your hand and pulls as Yoongi and Taehyung run in the opposite direction.
Jungkook cackles as he chases after you and Jimin. The snowball rises high in the air as he shouts, “Come get your Christmas gift, Park!”
Luna herds the family up the stairs later that night when she’s ready for bed.
Jungkook and you wear your matching pajamas. An evening of food, laughter, and photos has drained you as you go up the stairs after Minji and Luna.
Jungkook keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding your sleepy self up the stairs and down the hall.
“Goodnight, honey,” Minji kisses Jungkook’s cheek and then yours.
You smile as you climb into bed with Jungkook beside you. His mood lamp is on, and you’re grateful for the pink stars that light the ceiling. Even at your age, you’re still a little scared of the dark.
“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks as he rolls to his side to face you.
You face him, your fingers laced with his.
“I’m just really glad I came to your home for the holidays. It’s been amazing. You, your family, everything has been perfect.” you smile warmly as he brings your knuckles to his lips to kiss gently.
“I’m glad you came. I know this whole thing has been a little odd, but getting to know you and being here with you has been the best part of this Christmas.” Jungkook pecks you on the lips, unable to control the smile that lights up his face.
Your gaze holds his, the sparkle in his eyes making you fall for him a little more as they grow brighter with each passing second.
“Kiss me,” you whisper as you lean in closer, and he closes the distance between you with his lips. They’re soft and taste like strawberry chapstick when they brush against your lips. You break apart for a moment, his eyes revealing more than you want to speak of now.
Instead, you whisper, “Kiss me again.”
Slowly, Jungkook kisses you again. He cups your face while you tug on his shirt, quickly removing it from him.
His breathy laugh brushes your skin as he noses at your throat. “Eager?”
“Shut up,” you hiss, climbing on top of him as his hands grip your hips.
Jungkook groans at your words, licking his lips as you take your top off to discard on the bedroom floor. Your fingers make quick work of your bra and soon you’re left topless and horny on top of him.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses as he gets an eyeful of your breasts and nearly drools as his hands move upwards to cup them in his hands. You moan his name when his fingers brush the sensitive nipples, making them peak.
As much as he loves seeing you on top, Jungkook wants to take his time with you. This was a turn of events he wasn’t expecting, otherwise, he would have waited for your first time together to be at his place, in private where you could scream his name as loud as you wanted.
However, he won’t pass up the chance to have you. You’ve had such a hard time keeping your hands off each other even around your friends. Stealing kisses and sneaking off to make out in dim hallways and busy restaurant alleys. Light touches under tables, lustful looks shared across the room until you could sneak off together and kiss as if your lives depended on it.
If Jungkook could do this all over again, he would. Only he’d make you his from the get-go. But that’s a thought for another time as your hands glide up his torso, moaning at the sight of him.
“Jungkook,” his name tumbles so sweetly from your kiss-swollen lips.
His breath fans across your face as he chuckles. His dark locks create a curtain between you. Slowly, your fingers push his hair out of the way to find his sparkling eyes locked on yours. You melt beneath him as he kisses you.
Your hands grip his strong shoulders as your legs wrap around his hips to pull him close. Jungkook laughs at your eagerness, teeth nipping your bottom lip before releasing it.
Jungkook kisses his way down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until his name fills the bedroom. You cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he’s quick to remove it.
With lust-filled eyes, you watch as he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each fingertip until he’s kissing your palm and moving upwards.
Jungkook wants to take his time with you. Show you his appreciation from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. He knows you’ll only let him do so much before you beg for more, more, more…
Like clockwork, your fingers thread through his hair directing his lips to yours as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. He moans against your lips, cursing when you tug on his bottom lip.
Your hands move downward across the massive expanse of his back, each muscle rippling beneath your touch as you arch into him. Your hips grind against him, the thin material of your shorts already soaking wet with your arousal.
Jungkook nearly growls when he feels it, cock throbbing in the next moment. He hikes your leg up higher on his waist, his hand grabbing your ass as his lips feverishly seek yours.
Gasps and moans fill the space between you in between hot, needy kisses that make your toes curl. Panting, you beg him for more as his hands tug your shorts off to toss on the bedroom floor; forgotten until morning.
You lay bare beneath him as he sat back on his haunches. His hands lace with yours, a soft bashful smile on his lips.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes never straying from yours as he leans in for a kiss.
Jungkook’s had enough teasing. His hands grip your thighs, cursing when he feels your wetness on your skin. He slowly rubs your clit, his dark hooded gaze on yours.
“Fuck, baby,” he curses as he moves his fingers downward and slowly slides them inside you. He watches you closely; loves the way your eyes flutter shut and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he curls his fingers and rubs your clit with his thumb.
“Kook,” you moan when he goes faster, slipping a little deeper just to watch you tremble. “Fuck me.”
You’re tired of waiting. You’ve wanted this since before you shared your first kiss and now being naked in his bed is becoming too much. You’ve dreamed of this time and time again and it’s about to become a reality if Jungkook can stop teasing you and just split you open.
You’ll beg, plead, and cry if you have to just for a taste of him. Just for a moment of sweet bliss.
“Please,” you beg as your hands palm over his cock in his pajama pants. You’re quick to tug them downward and Jungkook laughs at your excitement. He gets off the bed to kick them off and your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock as he wraps his hand around it and strokes it.
You bite your bottom lip, watching him intently until you’re getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the bed.
Jungkook groans when your hand wraps around his length. Your tongue licking the head teasingly. His gaze burns into the top of your head as your lips wrap around him. You relax your jaw as you take him in further, drooling all over yourself as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose.
He feels heavy on your tongue as you open wider. His hands grip your hair hesitantly before you pull off him.
“Don’t be scared,” you giggle. “I won’t break.”
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you wrap your lips around him once again. He lets you find your pace, not pushing too deep before he’s guiding you. Your hand rolls his balls while the other strokes him.
“Just like that. Fuck,” Jungkook throws his head back, the mood lamp illuminates the room, accentuating the veins in his neck, and he curses again. You moan around him, slurping as you get messy, bobbing up and down, gagging on his fat cock while Jungkook loses his mind over your pretty lips.
He pulls on your hair, using it to fuck your mouth until your nose presses to his abdomen. You choke, pulling off him to catch your breath.
“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” Jungkook tongues his lip ring as he takes you in. You’re breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hair is mussed from him tugging on it, and your lips are smeared with spit and his pre-cum. You look beautiful.
Jungkook leans forward, kissing you. All teeth and tongue, unable to resist how gorgeous you look in that moment.
It’s not too long before you’re back on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, begging for his cock once again.
“So needy,” Jungkook coos as he strokes himself, the fat head of his cock brushing your clit.
“Please,” you whimper, trying to raise your hips in hopes that he’ll just slide right in. “Fuck.”
Jungkook bites his lip. He’s never seen anyone so desperate for his dick. It makes him throb as he teases your entrance and a whine of his name escapes you, nails digging into his back.
“Don’t make me find someone else,” you huff.
Jungkook rolls his eyes as he kisses your jaw, trailing upward to your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth.
“They can’t fuck you as good as I will,” he laughs cockily.
You arch into him, lips meeting his in a needy kiss as he slides into you. The stretch is wonderful. Stars illuminate your vision as Jungkook’s lips muffle the moan that threatens to wake the whole house.
The two of you have managed to keep the noises down to a reasonable level but Jungkook knows his luck might run out if he gets too carried away. Shit, he should have waited until he had you to himself at his apartment or even your dorm.
“Gotta be quiet, baby. Or I’ll have to stop,” Jungkook whispers as he sinks in further. “You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“No, please don’t stop. Koo,” you press your lips to his shoulder as he goes deeper, gripping your thighs with his large hands. He settles between your legs perfectly, cursing at the ceiling at how warm and wet you feel wrapped around him. It’s better than he could have ever imagined.
Jungkook grabs both of your legs, throwing them over his left shoulder as he pummels into you.
Tears flow down your cheeks. The pleasure is too overwhelming, lighting your body ablaze with each deep thrust that rewards you.
“So tight,” Jungkook grunts as his hair falls over his eyes. He pushes it back with his tattooed hand before moving it down to grope your breast, his fingers rolling your nipple just to listen to the sweet cries that escape you.
You tighten around him, soaking his cock as you cover your mouth with your hand.
Jungkook smiles, fucking you deeper, harder. Your cunt clings to him, thighs shaking as he holds your legs to his chest. His lips press a kiss to your calf before you dig your nails into the sheets beneath you, beyond ruined.
The creaking of the mattress is louder than Jungkook would like, but you look like you’re about to combust. His name leaves your lips in quick succession, nearly panting as tears roll down your cheeks, leaving behind stains as you bite your hand to keep from screaming his name as you tighten around him when you cum.
Jungkook fucks you slower, eyes focused on where your bodies connect. He waits for you to calm down, leaning forward to kiss your lips.
“Can you go for one more?” Jungkook asks in between kisses, your tongue meeting his as he cups your face.
“Yes,” you answer honestly, wanting more of him.
Jungkook kisses you one more time, moaning into the kiss as you clench around his cock. He nearly growls when you do it again, moving your hips against his.
“Let me get you on your hands and knees, darling,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of you and you whine at the loss.
Jungkook chuckles. “Easy, doll. You’ll have my ego growing bigger.”
You laugh, flipping him off. Jungkook laughs, leaning forward to gently nibble on your finger before you rip it out of his mouth.
Smirking, Jungkook helps you onto your knees as you plant your hands on the bed, arching your back.
Jungkook runs his tattooed hand over your back, gently slapping your ass just to watch it jiggle. He couldn’t lie, seeing you in jeans made his mouth water and there were a few times he had to excuse himself after staring at it for too long.
“Kook,” you say his name in a wanton tone that makes him melt.
Your eyes lock and he smiles as he grabs your ass in both hands, spreading you open for him. Your face grows hot as you turn around, unable to handle the dark lust-filled gaze he rewarded you with.
Jungkook doesn’t waste any more time as he lines himself up at your entrance, cursing when you welcome him easily.
His hands grip your hips tightly, almost enough to bruise. His name rolls off your tongue. You nearly drool when he reaches places others have only dreamed of.
You're so warm, so wet. It nearly drives him insane as he spears you on his cock. You’re soaking him, absolutely drenching him, and ruining him for anyone else. You’re the only one he wants, the only one he could ever want, and as he throws his head back in pleasure, he loses himself to thoughts he’d only shared with Yoongi.
“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook growls, gripping your ass as he continues to fuck you. He cards his hand through his hair, feeling sweat bead on his brow as you grow restless and fuck yourself on his dick.
“Just like that, baby. Use me. Use my cock. Fuck,” Jungkook groans as you fuck yourself on him, panting and moaning. He can see you biting down on his pillow, cunt pulsing around him as you scream into the pillow trying to keep quiet.
Jungkook watches you for another moment or two before he’s slamming into you. You cry out, face buried in his pillow as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass, unable to decide what to use to anchor himself as he fills you again and again.
“Fuck, darling. You feel so good wrapped around me,” Jungkook grunts as his eyes flutter shut. His body tingles all over, and your moans are growing in octaves despite the pillow clenched between your teeth soaked with spit and tears.
The obscene smacking of your coupling is almost too loud but Jungkook can’t be damned to give a single fuck as you clench around him, nearly milking his cock. He moans your name and curses as you tighten around him, moaning incoherently as you orgasm once again. Your poor legs shake as you ride it out, sobbing unintelligibly into the bed as praises you.
“Want to fuck you full of my cum, baby,” Jungkook can’t help himself as he thrusts in deeper. He’s so close. His lip is caught between his teeth as you fuck yourself weakly on his cock, your body still tingling.
“Please, do it,” you spur him on as you clench around him, tempting him.
“Baby!”
“Jungkook!”
“Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping. Gonna fuck it all back into you, baby. Make you think of me all day.” Jungkook curses as you meet each of his thrusts, his fingers finding your sensitive clit as you muffle a wail of his name in your hand.
“Come on, love. Just one more for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook encourages as he nears the edge. He curses, losing himself as he fills you, and you tighten around him, soaking him and the sheets. A whimper escapes you as you fall forward on the bed, utterly spent.
Jungkook exhales deeply as he fills you to the brim before pulling out. He’s tempted to spread your legs and set them on his broad shoulders, lick you clean, and put you to bed.
But you’re spent, eyes barely open as you reach for him.
Jungkook kisses you gently. “Gotta clean you up, babe.”
You groan, legs already feeling sore. Jungkook helps you out of bed. He puts a shirt on you and opens his bedroom door as quietly as possible. He peeks into the hallway, making sure the coast is clear before he leads you to the bathroom.
Jungkook made sure you were steady enough to not fall before he ran to the room to change the sheets and pillowcases. By the time you’re back, he’s in a pair of boxers.
“Get in bed, babe,” he instructs as he helps you in and tucks you in. “I’ll be right back.”
You watch him go, waiting for him and smiling when he comes back a few minutes later with some water. He lets you drink a bit before he gets into bed beside you.
You curl into him, still unsure of what all this means, but you don’t care much when he wraps you up in his arms and holds you close.
“Sleep well, darling.”
Christmas morning passes in a whirlwind of breakfast and movies. Lots of stories from Jungkook’s childhood; few you heard from the man himself and more from his parents. Jungkook grows embarrassed soon, but nothing beats the flush on his cheeks when his mother pulls out the photo albums. Lunch came and passed with more stories and photos as Jungkook hid his face on your shoulder.
It’s not until after dinner that you’re all gathered in the living room with Minji and the Jeons.
“Come here, dear,” Minji pats the spot beside her as she holds a large pink photo album in her lap. One she brought for your arrival.
Jungkook sits on the arm of the couch next to you, curious eyes on the album as Minji opens it and takes out two envelopes.
One she hands to Jungkook and the other to you.
You’re confused. The family had exchanged gifts just after dinner with good wishes and warm coffee and cookies. Wrapping paper and gift bags still littered the living room floor.
“The two of you are so good together,” Minji comments as Jungkook kisses the top of your head. “I had this same talk with Saraí and Seojun when he first brought her home. Same with your father and your mother, and now you.”
Minji places a hand on yours. “I first met Jungkook’s grandfather at the Christmas parade in town. Oh, we couldn’t stand each other one bit!”
Jungkook chuckles as he listens to his grandmother.
“We were assigned the same parade float, and I swear that man was as stubborn as a mule! He wanted goats instead of reindeer, fireworks instead of candles, and he wanted me to be Santa! He said he’d be an elf! He was over six feet tall! An elf!” Minji shakes her head as she points to a photo of her as an elf and who you assume to be Jungkook’s grandfather as Santa.
“I arm wrestled him for it!” Minji exclaims proudly. “In front of his friends, and I won fair and square! I grew up with three brothers.”
You laugh as she turns the page, and Minji sits with her brothers. They all smile in the photo and make silly faces.
“I thought he’d be embarrassed that I beat him. But I got my way. I stood my ground and he claimed that’s when he knew I was the one for him,” Minji continues as she flips the page and runs her fingers over her wedding photo.
Tears pool in your eyes as you look at Jungkook. He looks like he’s about to cry, and guilt fills your chest.
“That man gave me a wonderful life. Beautiful children and cute grandkids. I miss him every day. Stubborn man he was, but there was nothing we couldn’t get through together.” Minji wipes a stray tear before smiling fondly.
“Anyway,” she sniffles as she sets the album on the coffee table.
“I wanted to give you two something special to get you started. I know you haven’t been together for too long, but Jungkook looks at you the way his grandfather looked at me and you the way I looked at him. I know it deep in my soul that you two belong together.” Minji smiles warmly as she takes your hand and Jungkook’s. “Be good to each other.”
You wipe a few tears and look at Jungkook. He opens the envelope, and it holds a photo of a home (not an apartment) with the address written on the back and a small gold key.
You can’t do this.
Not anymore.
The Jeons have welcomed you with open arms and all you’ve done is lie to them. Guilt washes over you in waves as you force yourself not to cry. This is wrong.
You hand the envelope back to Minji before rising to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest, nearly deafening you as you try (and fail) to steel yourself.
“We lied,” you state, wringing your hands in front of you.
Jungkook frowns as he hands his envelope back to Minji. Guilt bubbles deep in his belly, and he knows this has gone too far. He should have never gone on with this scheme. Conning his grandmother? He felt terrible. He should have told the truth from the beginning.
“We aren’t a couple,” Jungkook admits, feeling the confused stares of his family. “We lied to you all.”
Aera and Dae stare at their youngest son and then at you.
Minji shakes her head.
“I lied,” Jungkook continues as he takes your hand. “She had nothing to do with it. I begged her to help me. I’m so sorry, Grandmother Jeon.”
Seojun stares with furrowed brows as Saraí places her hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why his little brother would lie.
“I thought Grandmother Jeon would give me an apartment or something if she thought I was seeing someone seriously like Seojun.” Jungkook hangs his head in shame. “The lie kept growing and growing until I was too embarrassed to tell the truth. I never meant to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not all his fault, Grandmother Jeon,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I agreed to help. You’ve all been so welcoming, and I didn’t have a place to go for the holidays, and I agreed. We never intended to harm anyone. We’re both so sorry.”
Minji laughs from her seat, surprising Aera and Dae.
“I know all about your little scheme,” Minji laughs, shaking her head as if this were the most comical thing she has witnessed. “Jimin’s grandmother hits the slot machines with me, and that boy sure loves to open his mouth. I’ve known since I arrived, honey.”
“Jungkook! Why would you lie? You know you could have told us anything!” Aera crosses her arms as she scolds her son.
“I just felt pressured,” Jungkook admits, and his mother sinks. “I hadn’t dated in a while, and I know you’d like to see me married like Seojun, but it just seemed like this is what everyone wanted from me.”
“Son,” Dae approaches him, hugging him. “We know we can be a little pushy, and I promise you will no longer feel pressured to settle down. We just got excited over Seojun. We wanted you to have the same happiness and partnership he and Saraí do.”
“Your father’s right,” Aera nods as she hugs Jungkook. “Oh, my baby! I’m so sorry for pressuring you! I just worry about you being alone so far away.”
“I’m fine, mom. I’ve got friends, and now I have her.” Jungkook reaches for you once his parents release him from their hugs.
Aera hugs you. “I’m so sorry for all this. We enjoy having you here. You’ve made our son and family so happy with your presence. It’s been a joy getting to know you and seeing how happy you’ve made our Kookie.”
You smile, hugging her tight before Minji hands Jungkook the envelope again.
“That’s yours to do as you please,” she states as she hands you your envelope.
You open it and gasp when you see two tickets to a resort you’ve wanted to go to. They’re dated for Spring Break.
“I’ve got a place down there that you’re welcome to visit during your vacation, but Jimin’s grandmother and I will be busy partying.”
“Mother!” Dae exclaims in shock.
“What? I’m old enough to drink! I’ve been old enough to drink.” she shakes her head with a laugh.
“I can’t accept this.” you try to return it, but Minji won’t take it.
“No takebacks!” She grins as she rises from the couch, and Luna follows her, yapping at her ankles.
“Should we go see the Christmas lights?” Seojun suggests as he rises to his feet and helps Saraí.
The family heads out to join the rest of the neighborhood on a walk. Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin join you as you let your families go on ahead without you.
“How’d it go?” Hoseok asks as he shivers, his ears peeking from his beanie.
“Yeah,” Seokjin grins. “Did you get the apartment?”
“Did the plan work?” Taehyung questions.
“Yes,” you say with a wry smile.
“And no.” Jungkook shakes his head.
“Huh?” Yoongi furrows his brows.
“Jimin needs to learn that gossiping with your grandmother can bite you in the butt!” Jungkook hisses as he laces his fingers with yours.
Jimin pales, turning his head and whistling to appear nonchalant.
“Yeah, Min!” You agree with a laugh as Jungkook kisses your cheek.
“I thought she’d forget!” Jimin defends as he gets playfully shoved by his friends. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue to walk, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting on the snow.
“Oh no,” you giggle. “Jimin’s grandmother told Grandmother Jeon.”
“And she knew the moment she stepped into the house,” Jungkook sighed with a shake of his head.
“Whoops!” Jimin laughs.
“So much for ‘Con Jungkook’s Grandma, huh?” Namjoon sighed as a chill ran through him. His scarf fluttered in the light wind as snowflakes fell from the sky.
“Shut up!” Jungkook laughs as he stops to form a snowball.
Seokjin laughs, pulling Yoongi with him as they run away from Jungkook.
Hoseok and Jimin slam into each other in their haste to escape the ricocheting snowball that smacks Namjoon in the chest.
Namjoon curses, forming a snowball as Taehyung runs away, following Yoongi and Seokjin, begging them to protect him.
You laugh as you take off, running with Jungkook as Namjoon hurls a snowball in your direction.
Laughter fills the streets of the neighborhood as more people join the snowball fight while you jog away with Jungkook, holding hands as you hide behind a tree for cover.
You’re pressed to his chest, peeking to see if you’ve been discovered yet, but being so far away from everyone just means silence surrounds you.
The evening is quiet as snow continues to fall, and Jungkook wraps his scarf around you to keep you warm. You’re wearing matching coats, hands warm in your gloves as he pulls you closer.
Everything fades into nothingness as his gaze meets yours. His hand is gentle when he cups your face. His gaze flits to your lips and back to your eyes.
“You know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jungkook whispers.
“Me too,” you whisper as you hold his gaze.
“There’s only one thing that would make it better,” Jungkook smiles softly.
“And what’s that?” You ask as you bite your bottom lip.
“If you were mine,” Jungkook said with a dimpled smile. “For real this time.”
“I think I can make that happen,” you tease with a coquette smile. “But only with a kiss.”
Chuckling, Jungkook cups your face. “As you wish, baby.”
Jungkook captures your lips with his own, moaning when your fingers thread in his hair. He kisses you deeply as snowflakes coat your hair and his.
There’s nothing better than kissing Jungkook, your boyfriend. The word makes your heart skip a beat as he deepens the kiss, soft moans escaping the both of you as your lips move in sync.
Jungkook can’t help but be elated. His heart flutters as he realizes this is your first Christmas together. The first of many. He can see his future in your eyes—a home, a marriage, and children running down these streets covered in snow and Christmas lights.
There’s nothing more he could ever want.
When he catches your gaze, a bashful smile appears on your lips as you ask, “What?”
Jungkook shakes his head slightly, “Nothing. Just thinking about next Christmas.”
“Oh, will I be back?” You ask cheekily as he pulls you closer, the laughter of your friends ringing in the background as they grow closer.
“Definitely.” Jungkook seals his promise with a kiss just as your friends arrive, hooting as they circle you.
“Come on, lovebirds,” Namjoon huffs. “Momma Jeon’s got hot chocolate and cookies waiting for us.”
You laugh as Jungkook takes your hand, smiling as his friends race down the sidewalk to be the first on Momma Jeon’s porch. You smile, imagining all your Christmases like this, with your friends and Jungkook at your side.
Before you reach his home, Jungkook stops you just beneath the door frame before pointing up. Mistletoe hangs above your head, and you share a smile. Jungkook gently places his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing it as he whispers, “Merry Christmas.” before he kisses you.
<< part one
© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.
#bangtanarmynet#btsgoldnet#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader insert#bf!jungkook#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fake dating au#bts christmas#fic: hfth#fic: home for the holidays
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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 5
Christmas Eve part 2
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: swearing, family members are mean (are we seeing a pattern?), can you tell that I love lebkuchen from the number of times it got mentioned, they kiss again but for like 2 seconds, then they kiss again later for longer than 2 seconds 👀, reader's grandpa isn't supportive of her job (but it's ok because lockwood saves the day), a pigeon was harmed in the making of this chapter (but it lives!), drinking (alcohol), lockwood talks about his family and the Christmases he spent without them, reader comforts him, there is so much communication but somehow so much miscommunication at the same time??? and I'm annoyed at myself for doing this (but it's necessary), this part does not have a happy ending at all (I'm sorry)
series master list
"Well," Lockwood started, looking around at everyone gathered. "I suppose it started in March."
He paused for a moment, trying to figure out where to go from there. "We were on a job, just the two of us, in Kensington. A couple wanted their house clearing out before they properly moved in, and called us. Everything was going perfectly fine, and then we realised that our clients hadn't told us everything about the property, and we were dealing with three Limbless in an enclosed space." Y/n remembered that job well. It was one of the few cases that she'd actually gone on with just Lockwood, and they had been arguing for most of it about the best way to get rid of a Limbless.
Their argument had attracted the other two that were out in the garden.
"Y/n was brilliant, of course, using her Talent to locate the Sources of the three of them while I covered her, but I got held up in the corridor by some Type Ones that had appeared and she was left on her own. I only just got there in time to throw a salt bomb at the Limbless behind her and give her the extra second that she needed to wrap up the Source, but I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life. I really thought I was too late and that I'd lost her." His voice sounded thick with emotion, and when Y/n met his eyes they were watery. She tried not to frown, since it was strange for her to see him so affected like this. Lockwood cleared his throat, and looked back at the crowd. "Then of course I realised that I couldn't live without her and I asked her on a date. She said no, despite my attempts at baking her favourite cake and all the flowers." He cracked a smile, and people around the room laughed.
"Well you did look rather pathetic, Ant. I sort of wanted to watch you suffer a bit more." That much was true at least, since any time she got to watch him squirm was entertaining to her.
"Well you certainly got your share of that, darling," he huffed, and Y/n bit back a snort at the frustrated look on his face. "I had to ask her about six times after that first one before she finally said yes. We've been dating since the middle of April."
"It was eight, but who's counting?" Something about his story didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was how close it was to what had actually happened on the job, or maybe it was the dread of all the questions she'd get about her job once people started mingling, wanting to know if she had a backup plan in case this line of work failed, or if she realised how dangerous it was.
Maybe it was the way that Lockwood had looked at her when he was talking about losing her.
~~~
"What are your intentions with Y/n?"
"Don't be stupid," John said, whacking his brother Sam on the arm.
"No, but really, what are your intent- oof!" Sam had been tackled to the floor by John, and Lockwood did his best not to flinch.
He'd been dragged into the library a few minutes ago by Y/n's brothers, and although he was the smallest, Tom was currently the most frightening as he stared Lockwood down from across the room, despite the two eldest brothers currently scrapping on the floor.
"Did... did you want me to answer that, or...?"
"I mean, it would be nice to know," Will piped up, eating straight from a packet of lebkuchen in the armchair opposite. Lockwood didn't think he'd ever seen the man without some sort of food nearby. He sat forward in his chair slightly, trying to come up with a good enough answer that would mean he could go back to the party. John and Sam stopped punching each other to hear his answer.
"I'm mostly just happy that she even gave me a chance, if I'm being honest." That much was true, but Y/n's brothers didn't need to know that he was talking about her acceptance of a position at his company and not the mythical relationship that the two of them had been in for eight months. "I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have her, and I can promise you that I won't do anything to screw that up."
Sam and John seemed happy enough with his answer, and Lockwood started breathing a little more easily. Tom was still staring at him, and Lockwood could have sworn that the boy hadn't blinked the entire time. Will snorted, shaking the bag around to get the last crumbs of lebkuchen out. "Yeah, sure. What's the real answer? No more of that crap, because it's obvious you rehearsed that to make us happy." When Lockwood didn't say anything for a moment Will prodded him again. "Go on."
He clenched his jaw, wondering how he could say anything nice about Y/n when she hadn't said anything nice about him for nearly three years, and looked out the window. A memory flashed up, and despite it having only been that morning, he was surprised at how quickly he'd forgotten the interaction.
Since when had she memorised how he took his tea?
He didn't think that Y/n had ever made him tea before, always making it a deliberate point to make a pot for everyone but him, and yet that morning while they sat in bed she had done it perfectly as though it were second nature. Then his mind drifted back to the night before, and he felt his face warm up at the memory of the mistletoe. He cleared his throat.
"I guess..." Lockwood sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw again. It was starting to ache. "I guess that's true, what I said before-"
"You guess?" Will interjected. Lockwood hadn't thought that he would be under this much scrutiny, but he was starting to sweat uncomfortably. He'd rather be dealing with Barnes right now than be sat here.
"It is true," he amended, making wary eye contact with the man. The packet of lebkuchen was neglected in Will's hand, hanging limply as he sat forward to question his younger sister's boyfriend. "She's incredible - the most incredible girl I've ever met - and I truly am aware of how lucky I am that she chose me. I'm not exactly... easy... to be around sometimes because of my agency, but she deals with me perfectly. She deals with me more than she should, to be honest." He frowned, thinking again about how he needed to figure out how to apologise to her. Nothing he had said was a lie; in fact, he didn't think he'd said anything more true about Y/n the entire time that he had known her. She was incredible, since her Touch was so powerful and unlike anything that he had ever seen before. And he did count himself lucky that she, despite his horrible words, still decided to work for him. And she did deal with him, more than anybody should, and she did it by being just as much of an arse to him as he was to her.
Maybe they were good together after all.
A thud on the window made everyone turn to look at what had made the noise, and Tom finally broke eye contact with Lockwood.
"Pigeon," Sam said, having been closest to the window. "I think it might be- oh no, it's just got up and flown off. Don't tell Mum though, she'll have a fit if she sees the mark it left."
"Alright, I think we're done here. You're free to go, Lover Boy," Will said, waving his hand vaguely at Lockwood and scrunching up the empty lebkuchen packet. Lockwood got up to leave, but upon opening the door a body fell face first into his chest with a small 'oof!'
"... Darling?" Lockwood asked, confusion lacing his voice. The figure looked up and offered a smile.
"Oh, hi! I was just... wondering where you were, Anthony." He tried to not let it show how much it affected him to hear his first name in her mouth, but the slight intake of breath that he took probably gave him away. It didn't help that Y/n was in that dress, since she looked so stunning that he couldn't focus on anything but her.
"You're so obsessed with each other," Lockwood heard Will mutter from behind him, and he realised with a start that they had just been staring at each other and blocking the doorway, penning the others in the library. When they went to move, however, Sam stopped them.
"Mistletoe! You can't break tradition!"
"Ugh, again? Did Mum plant an entire fucking garden of it?" Y/n said, peering up at the sprig that hung over their heads. "They're not gonna let us leave without doing it."
"Alright. Let's get it over with then," he whispered into her mouth, and he couldn't help but feel the exact opposite when she pressed her lips to his.
~~~
"So," Y/n's grandfather Richard started, and internally she groaned. He had used the tone of voice that meant he was about to start asking about work, and she was dreading this conversation. "Being an agent. Are you still sure it's what you want to do with your life, Y/n?"
"Yes, Gramps. I'm sure. I have been doing it for years now."
"But there are so many other things you could be doing! Jobs that you could actually be good at!"
That stung a little, and Y/n sat back slightly in her chair. She loved her Gramps, and most of the time he was one of her favourite family members, but he'd been alive before the Problem had started and didn't understand that things had changed since he was a kid. He believed in her in most other ways, just not when it came to her life as an agent, which was one of the only things she was truly passionate about (other passions included drinking tea and hating Lockwood).
"I don't mean to intrude," a voice piped up, and once again Y/n found herself wondering how the hell Lockwood managed to always turn up at the right time. "But Y/n is one of the best agents in the country, sir. Her Talent is so incredibly unique and that's what makes her so brilliant at her job." He perched on the arm of the chair that she was sat on, and she frowned when she felt the urge to rest her head against his thigh.
"Well how can you possibly know that!"
"Gramps, this is my boyfriend, Anthony? You met him briefly last night?"
"Oh, is it? Right, well I suppose you would know then! Tell me, is she too much of a pain sometimes?!"
Lockwood hesitated slightly, glancing down at where Y/n sat in the chair and frowning a little at her Gramps' question. "If anything I'm the pain. I don't know why she keeps me around to be honest." He sounded so sincere about it that for a moment she forgot that he had ever said anything horrible about her. The rest of their conversation faded into background noise as she remembered what she'd overheard earlier.
It was probably breaking all sorts of moral laws to eavesdrop on her brothers' interrogation of Lockwood, but then again she'd made her boss her fake boyfriend to fool her entire family, so she figured that she was well past being entirely moral about things. And besides, she hadn't been intending on listening in at first, she'd just been walking back from using the loo and happened to hear them. She couldn't get Lockwood's words out of her head, and she'd been replaying them over and over since.
"She's incredible - the most incredible girl I've ever met - and I truly am aware of how lucky I am that she chose me."
What the hell did that mean? Was it a lie that he'd made up to make them happy? But then she'd also heard Will prodding for the truth and his exclamation that whatever Lockwood had said before (which she hadn't heard) was obviously fake, so did he just come up with a better lie?
Tonight, she thought. Tonight I'll talk to him.
~~~
When the last guests had stumbled out of the front door, singing loudly and bumping into each other because they had had too much to drink, everybody left in the house let out a sigh of relief.
Y/n mumbled a tired 'good night' to everyone as she pulled herself upstairs, and Lockwood followed after her. He'd been helping her father tidy up a little before turning out the lights, to save some of the food that needed refrigerating and chucking other things in the bin. She had been worried when her dad first started talking to Lockwood, but then she'd heard her father laughing and had decided that they would be perfectly fine together.
Now she collapsed face first onto the bed, not yet worrying about the chill in the room.
"I can see why you were dreading that," Lockwood said, his voice sounding too loud. She'd had to down a few drinks that afternoon to deal with the sheer number of questions and comments from family members and friends, and now her head was aching slightly.
"Can you get me some water?" she asked, but since her face was still buried in the duvet it came out muffled. Lockwood's footsteps shuffled around for a while, and then went silent, and Y/n huffed in annoyance. Of course he'd just get himself ready for bed and not worry about her, that was so typical of him. She pushed herself upright, wincing when the room wobbled a little and the pain increased in her head, then frowned when Lockwood reappeared, something in his hand.
"Here. I couldn't find any painkillers though, so I'll just go and fill that up when you're done so you can try and sober up before bed."
Oh. Maybe he wasn't being so typical after all.
"Thanks," she muttered, taking the glass from him and eyeing it warily.
"It's not poisoned, darling. If I was going to kill you I wouldn't do it in a way that might mean you could come back to haunt me."
"Charming."
He sat down on the bed next to her with a sigh, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "You know," he said, not looking at her. "This hasn't been... the worst Christmas I've ever had."
"No? You're spending it with me." He gave her a wry smile, finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers.
"Yeah, that's not really that bad."
Oh.
"Really?"
He hummed in answer, nodding slightly, then got up and walked over to the fireplace. They sat in silence while Y/n finished off her water and Lockwood got the fire going, and once she headed over to sit next to where he was crouching she realised how cold she had been before. He sat back, leaning on the chair behind him. Y/n was hunched over her knees, empty glass dangling in her grip. She could have done the same as Lockwood with the armchair behind her, and god knew her head needed something to rest against because despite the water dulling the ache it was still pressing against her temples, but she didn't think she could see Lockwood's face at that moment.
"The first Christmas after Jess passed was the worst."
Her head snapped to look at him where he sat to her left, but he was staring into the fire, eyes transfixed on the flames but looking at something far away. She didn't say anything, instead just letting him go ahead in his own time.
"The ones after my parents died were hard, sure, but at least I had Jess around and we knew what the other was going through. Then she was gone too, and I was nine years old in a big house that was suddenly empty of the family I had spent my life being loved by."
She knew that his family were dead since the absence of any of them was shockingly present in 35 Portland Row, but he had never told her anything. She'd had to learn it all from Lucy, George, and Holly.
"That first one was horrible. I don't think I stopped crying for longer than an hour the entire time, and I couldn't sleep because I kept replaying it over in my head. I could have helped," he whispered, and Y/n could see that his eyes were glistening in the light of the fire. "I could have saved her, if only I hadn't-" he cut himself off, his voice growing too strangled to continue. Quickly she placed her hand on his arm, turning her body to face him.
"Hey, hey," she said quietly, drawing him into her arms. Her glass had been abandoned on the floor, her hands now holding Lockwood's body in her lap instead. His head was resting on her chest while his arm wrapped around her stomach, the other supporting his weight, and Y/n told herself that she was only allowing this to happen because she hadn't yet sobered up.
She wasn't sure how long they were there for, her leaning back at an awkward angle to allow room for Lockwood to lie on top of her and curl into her side while he sniffled, but after a while she found that she didn't mind stroking her fingers through his hair (which was surprisingly soft) or having his weight on her (it was like having a weighted blanket).
"Thank you," he muttered after a while, sitting up and wiping at his face. He paused in his movements when he realised that their faces were much closer together than was normal for two people that didn't like each other. The memory of that morning when she had smoothed out his collar and he had been about to say something came back, and when his gaze flicked between her eyes and her lips she drew in a breath.
"Anthony?"
And then he was surging forward, kissing her with the same passion that he had hated her with while she reached up to grab his shirt, not caring that she was wrinkling the fabric that she herself had smoothed out that very morning. How could she think of anything but him when the two of them had finally crashed together like a tsunami hitting cities?
How could she think of anything but him when he pulled her on top of him?
And how could she think of anything but him when he sighed her name into her mouth and it sounded sweeter than the tea he drank?
And then she was thinking about him entirely, and remembering everything that had happened since they met, and suddenly kissing him was a terrible idea.
"She's not good enough for the company."
She pushed away from him with a start when those words blared in her mind like warning alarms, the memory of what she had overheard in the library around four months after starting to work for Lockwood and Co. She hadn't heard anything before, but the disdain in Lockwood's voice told her it was about her. She had run upstairs to make sure she didn't hear any more of what he thought about her.
"Y/n?" he asked now, voice hoarse from crying and kissing, and his expression was desperate as he watched her press her hand to her lips and take shaky breaths. "Y/n? What is it? Wh-"
"Don't," she snapped, standing up and trying to forget the feeling of his hands on her body. "Don't... just don't, Lockwood." He was getting up too, scrambling after her and reaching out to stop her from slipping away.
"I don't understand-"
"Don't understand what?! We can't- we hate each other, Lockwood!" The venom in her voice made him stumble back a few steps. "You never wanted me at your company and you made sure that I knew that!"
"I-"
"I heard you telling the others that I wasn't ever going to be good enough for you, and then a few hours later after a job you're telling me that my Talent is incredible?! What am I supposed to think?! And then you spend the next however many years being a complete dick to me and complaining about me, so I do the same because clearly being nice didn't work, and now you're here at my fucking family Christmas event pretending to be my boyfriend and kissing me when you don't need to-"
"Of course I need to! I know I was horrible to you-"
"An understatement," she scoffed, crossing her arms.
"-but I'm trying to figure out how to apologise to you because I know that I've fucked up and I need to fix it!"
"So you kissed me?!"
"No! Yes! That wasn't an apology!" He rubbed his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with how it was going. "It was a mistake- no, Y/n, I didn't mean it like that!"
"A mistake?" she whispered, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. "Kissing me was a mistake?"
"No," he said, tone filled with desperation. "No, Y/n, I just meant that I shouldn't have done it before apologising to you because then it would seem like... I don't know! Like I was doing it just to try and trick you into accepting my apology or something!"
"Were you? Doing it to trick me? Because right now I can't tell what the truth is, Lockwood!"
"It wasn't a trick. It was never a trick, and I'm an idiot-"
"Yes, you are."
"Would you just listen to me?!" he shouted, anger seeping in to his body, and Y/n took a step back at the look in his eyes.
"What, like how you listen to me?"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Yesterday, on the platform, when I was talking about my family being a lot and how it was hard for me and I'm actually related to most of them, and I couldn't imagine how hard it would be for someone to be introduced to all of that in one go. You just assumed that I meant it would be hard for you because your family is dead, and then when I tried to explain you cut me off and gave me the cold shoulder because you didn't fucking listen, Lockwood. What I meant was it would be a lot for anyone, no matter their own experience. Hell, even George has said that he would rather be blocked from the Archives for life than ever meet my family, and he's got almost as many relatives as me!"
Lockwood didn't say anything for a minute, instead just standing still and staring at her while the fire in his eyes died down, and Y/n shook her head. "This?" She gestured between the two of them. "This will never work. We will never work. Because you never wanted me and no matter how much I want you to like me in the same way that you like the others, you never will. And I will never be good enough for you." That was one more person to add to the list of people that she needed to meet unnecessarily high expectations for in order to be even noticed. She wiped at the tears that had slipped down her face while she was talking, the salt making her cheeks itch.
"You're right," Lockwood finally said. "I won't ever like you in the same way as the others." He stopped there, looking down at the floor. When he went to speak again, however, he lifted his head to an empty room, and the bathroom door shutting him out.
Y/n ignored his attempts to talk to her through the door, shoving the duvet and blankets that she had quickly grabbed into the bathtub and plugging her headphones into her walkman so that she didn't have to hear the rest of his cruel words and excuses.
She had craved something different with him, and it had fucking destroyed her.
And now she had to wake up on Christmas Day and pretend that she was hopelessly in love with the fake boyfriend who had just broken her heart.
part 6
Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife
let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood x reader#deck the halls (and not your partner)#enemies to lovers#fake dating#christmas
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Ficmas Week Two: I'll Be Home For Christmas
Date Originally Published: November 22, 2020 - January 8, 2021
Multi/One Shot: Multi, 9 Chapters
Summary: When (y/n) is invited home for Christmas, Bucky volunteers to play the role of “dutiful boyfriend” and to fend off questions from annoying relatives, especially her parents. All the while both of them harbor secret feelings for one another.
Posting Location(s): AO3 and Tumblr
About This Fic: I wrote this fic at Christmas time during the pandemic. I was fucking miserable and my mom and I decided we were going to "Christmas the shit out of this..." We went all out that year, as much as we could. Extra presents, extra food, and some extra volunteering
Ironically, I'm trying to capture that same spirit this year (hence this collection and the new fic coming soon)
I'm usually not one for the cheesy Christmas rom-com but I was REALLY excited for Happiest Season which had Kristen Stewart and Aubrey Plaza in it (I was really disappointed, tbh but that's another post. So I thought i'd try my hand at casting Bucky in a Christmas Rom Com with a fake dating trope (my one weakness). I saw this playing out in my head as i was writing it, even if it didn't always translate right. I still love reading this fic and all it's Christmas fluff
#merry ficmas#ficmas#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#fake dating#christmas#christmas fake datings#christmas rom com
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Why oh why must my burnout come at Christmas, my favourite time to write cheesy fluffy nonsense!?
I need the strength to write my 'Ojiro takes you home to be his fake girlfriend at Christmas' fic pleeeeease.
#sarah rambles#i have the whole thing planned but i cant get pen to paper ahhhhhhh#why oh why#Christmas nope#ojiro mashirao#x reader#Christmas fluff#fake dating#bnha
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The Twelve Drivers of Christmas: Day Two
Movie night had been a long-standing affair between yourself and George. You couldn’t remember exactly when it had started, after a bad race at Williams when he was still just a rookie with big shiny eyes and the world at his feet. When crashing felt like the end of the world and seeking comfort was deeply embarrassing.
You’d found him curled up in his driver’s room and after virtually carrying him through the most painful round of interviews you’d had to sit through since you’d started your job several years ago as a PR girl he’d slunk off back to the hotel. Something about the way those blue eyes seemed to swim with heartbreak mellowed something inside of you and before you knew it you were knocking on the door of his hotel room at midnight and barging your way in. Maybe you couldn’t remember the date but you remembered forcing him to watch Legally Blonde, because he had no idea what a ‘comfort movie’ even was.
After that, movie night became a bit of an unspoken tradition. After a particularly tough day George would appear at your hotel room door with a bag of popcorn and eyes you couldn’t refuse and you’d let him pick out a film and snuggle down in your bed and forget the brutal world he came from for a few hours.
You moved to Mercedes for him, your job role morphing from his media manager to personal assistant. You both grew up, grew into the world you’d entered so young. Bad races no longer felt like the end of the world, but you were both so used to the routine that you never questioned it when he still turned up and he never missed an opportunity.
It was in Abu Dhabi, for the final race of the season where everything changed. George was ending his best season yet, and still riding high off the rush of his first ever win just a week prior. Everyone was out celebrating, and you were in your hotel room putting on the finishing touches of your makeup before you went out to join them when an unexpected knock at the door made you jump.
“Aren’t you supposed to be out?”
“Hello to you, too,” George looked only mildly put out at your greeting, but when you’ve just beaten your 7-time World Champion teammate to overall 4th place in the driver’s championship, you can’t look too sad about anything. “Can I come in?” You left the door open and retreated back to where you were sat in response. You heard the door click shut behind you and the quiet shuffle of George removing his shoes told you he’d followed you in.
“You look great,” You sent him a closed-eyes smile over your shoulder.
“Thanks,” He was sitting on the egde of your bed, hands folded neatly in his lap as he watched you swipe a layer of shiny gloss across your lips and make a playful kissy face at yourself in the mirror before finally turning to face him.
“Did you wanna head down together?” You asked, head cocked slightly to the side. George didn’t usually attend parties with you, even team events you tended to just find each other there. He shook his head at you.
“C’mon, last one of the season?”
“Georgie boy, you’re aware everyone else has been partying for several hours already?”
“Pick a short one then,” He’d shuffled back so he was propped up against your pillows, leaving you to crawl over and mimic his body language until you collapsed next to him. He handed over the remote control to the TV with flamboyant circumstance and let you flick through the aimless pages of Netflix until something cheesy and terrible caught your eye.
“It’s November,” You reasoned at his raised eyebrow in response to the movie splashed across the screen. George simply rolled his eyes and nodded, gesturing for you to press play as he settled down besides you.
An hour into a cheesy brainrot Christmas film you’d already forgotten the name of and you were starting to feel the error of your choice. After being steadily single for the last two years the gaudy couple finally getting together on screen were not as soothing as the bend-and-snap scene always felt.
“What?”
“What?” George was looking down at you, somewhere between confusion and amusement written across his pristine features.
“You’re sighing,”
“Am not,”
“You are,”
“These people make me sick,”
“They’re characters,” He reasoned, a grin starting to tug at the corner of his lips.
“So? They’re making me think about another year with every Aunt, Uncle and random Cousin asking me where my new boyfriend is. My family are obsessed,” George made a noise at the back of his throat that you hoped was at least somewhat deep in thought.
“Mine are the same,”
“Ugh,” He nudged you playfully.
“Ugh indeed,”
*****
It wasn’t until two weeks later you were reminded of the mid-movie conversation by George.
I have an idea.
Four words had never frightened and intrigued you so much. You met him at a cafe the next week. He was wearing a cream jumper and sipping on a coffee like he owned the place.
“Go on then,” You started, only once a gingerbread latte was situated in front of you, accompanied by an obnoxiously sweet pastry. “What’s your grand idea?”
“Me and you,” You raised an eyebrow at him, not following why he looked so pleased with himself over something that had been long, long established. “Okay, listen, I’ve thought about it a lot and it makes sense. What if I come with you to your Christmas and you come with me to mine? We’ve worked together for so long, it’s not hard to imagine us stretching to dating is it? I trust you, I like hanging out with you, what’s the harm in letting the annoying aunts and uncles believing there’s a bit more to it?”
For starters, you could name several harmful things that could hatch from George’s plan. But he was looking at you with ocean eyes and batting those lashes you couldn’t pay to get close to and you already knew you were going to cave and give in, because, you could be honest, who wouldn’t want to walk into Christmas day with 6’1 of drop dead gorgeous Formula One driver draped over you?
And that’s how you found yourself over a month later, George’s fingers intertwined with yours and resting on your thigh, a gesture that had become alarmingly familiar over the last few weeks. You were currently attending your fifth and final family event as a ‘couple’. It was a New Years Day party, something only a family like the Russels would hold. You were perfectly content to sit in your hangover and feel deep, deep shame for whatever things you’d gotten up to the night before under the influence of tequila shots, but no. George’s family were up at 9am, you’d already been out on an intensive dog walk that involved nothing short of scaling the side of a hill. George had taken your jacket (you were sweating too much to be able to wear it, even if it was two degrees) and then had virtually carried you up the final few meters to save face at the top. You’d giggled and twisted in his arms and called him ‘babe’ and all the things you were supposed to do.
You’d had a large dinner and to wash it down the family were sat around the fire sipping whiskey and slowly getting louder and looser. The weight of George’s hand on your lap was grounding you, bringing you back to reality as you were passed another drink, a gin for the ladies. He squeezed gently as you thanked his great-aunt Gretel for the tipple and that sudden, shameful feeling snuck back into the pit of your stomach.
You’d noticed it creeping up more and more frequently over the month. It was almost predictable, because it always happened when George did something so natural you forgot for a moment you weren’t dating and your mind leapt to the possibility of it being real and tangible. You’d never felt anything like that for him before, and you still weren’t sure you did. But you couldn’t deny the way your stomach would swoop when he touched the small of your back as you walked ahead of him, when his eyes found yours through a crowded room just to check you were okay, when you caught him chatting to your mum as if they were old friends.
The fire was dying, you were exhasuted, two weeks of rich food and strong drinks finally catching up with you. Most people had gone to bed, and it was just George and a handful of people left, they were speculating over the testing for the next season. It was all talk you’d heard a million times before and you were happy to let the words wash over you, the fire and a labrador’s head on your feet leaving you feeling fuzzy and content in a home that wasn’t yours. You allowed your head to drop onto George’s shoulder, the material of his jumper soft against your cheek.
You felt him turn to glance at you, before letting out a low chuckle and wrapping his free arm around your waist, allowing you to relax further into his body as he continued to talk.
The physical contact was a new thing too. You wondered if it would have always felt so good to have him so close? Had you missed out on years of cuddling against him during movie night, always separated by the invisible barrier of friendship? He was a good sleeper, too. That had been an awkward obstacle at first, there’s a certain expectation that when you bring your partner home that you’ll be sharing a bed, especially during the visiting season. The first night George had tried to sleep in the armchair in your room, but when you’d woken up at one o’clock to see him still awake you’d invited him in. It had started off normal enough, backs facing each other and just ignoring the warm weight of another person right besides you. You’d woken up with George’s face buried in your neck, his arms wrapped around you and holding you tight against his chest. You didn’t talk about it, but the pair of you just got into bed together, and you let him spoon you from the start.
“Hey,” He nudged you gently, just enough to stir you from the cozy half-sleep you’d been in.
“Hi,”
“Come on, we’re the last ones up, let’s go to bed,” You nodded sleepily, standing up and stretching lazily, letting the sleeves of his jumper flop back over your hands. They never stayed rolled up for long on your anyway. The dog at your feet rose and stretched in time with you, you gave her a scratch on her head before she quietly padded over and flopped into the bed by the fire, which George had quietly put out.
You followed him up the wooden staircase, trying not to giggle too much at the creeks.
“It’s a good job they put the deaf ones by the stairs,” he whispered, head titled in the direction of the spare room a set of his grandparents were currently staying in. George had a big family, and you loved it. Yours wasn’t big, but it was close. It was nice to feel surrounded by people who loved him so dearly, and by extension, you.
You nearly walked into George, who’d stopped in the small patch of landing at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“Look,” He pointed upwards. Hanging off the lights was a wizened bunch of mistletoe. “Mum always forgets to take one down,”
George’s mum was obsessed with mistletoe. You’d learnt that the hard way, and many (far too many for your liking) cheek kisses had been placed for the explicit entertainment of distant relatives.
“If you drool on my cheek again I’ll punch you in the stomach,” you warned him, referencing the last kiss, that had been encouraged by milky-eyed Greta. It was a good job she was losing her sight because George had thought himself funny enough to end the kiss by licking a stripe along your cheek.
You hadn’t payed attention to the way his arms had snaked around your wasit.
“What are you doing?” He was too close, it was triggering that swooping feeling again. You could hardly make out his eyes in the dimly lit gloom of the darkened house.
“Would it be so bad if I kissed you?”
You couldn’t answer even if you’d wanted to. George was fogging your mind and he was leaning closer and closer and the only thing you wanted was to taste him.
“No,” You whispered, so close your lips were already brushing as you gave him the word. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he kissed you properly.
It was sweet, chaste almost. It felt revered and special and not at all how kissing your best friend should feel, you thought as your eyes fluttered shut and the swooping intensified into a surge and your whole mind and body ached for him. He pulled away too soon, wet eyes and dopey smile giving him away.
He didn’t kiss you again until you were settled in bed, facing each other for the first time. He let you shuffle as close as you could get, brushing a hand through his hair as he rubbed patterns along your hip.
“I’ve got an idea,” he whispered against your lips.
“No more ideas, George,”
“You’ll like this one,” he held your cheek so tenderly it made you want to cry.
“Tell me,” you told him between ineffectuate pecks at his lips.
“What if it’s real, you and me?”
“I think it has been a bit real,” it’s funny how the dark lets you admit things you’d never normally.
“What if it carries on, being real, after Christmas? After the break?” He was kissing your cheeks, your nose, anywhere he could reach on your face.
“I think I’d like that,”
You fell asleep against his mouth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay I never thought I'd be into George but this was so much fun to write and fake dating warms my s o u l
it's pretty late so i'm gonna leave you guys with this and pop in tomorrow to edit and check in
Mr Pierre Gasly is next up on Tuesday 06/12!
#12 drivers of christmas#12DOC#george russel#x reader#fic#fanfiction#imagine#oneshot#fake dating#mistletoe#formula one#f1#mercedes#williams
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merry christmas guys 🫶🏾🫶🏾 new cooliver fic just dropped
synopsis: cooper asks oliver to be his fake date to his parents’ christmas gala, to get them off his back about finding a partner. oliver, who is apparently a masochist, agrees.
#cooliver#ahw#oliver otto#cooper bradford#american housewife#cooper’s parents#fake dating#fake dating au#fake relationship#or is it#Christmas fic#christmas#christmas fluff
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it's christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)
by antithetical_dreamgirl
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Pining Steve Harrington, Fake Dating, Christmas Fluff, Christmas, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Roommates, and they were ROOMMATES, no homophobia because I am a god here, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Getting Together, POV Steve Harrington
Words: 7,614 Chapters: 1/1
Summary
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Robin asks him. Steve takes a deep breath. “Nothings wrong.” He turns from the cutting board on the counter to look over at the two of them standing next to each other. They look skeptical. Steve takes another breath. “Okay, before I say anything, just remember that you guys are my friends and roommates and I always take out the trash at night when you guys are too scared and I take all the spiders you find in your rooms outside for you and you care about me deeply for a multitude of reasons, okay?” Robin rolls her eyes and Eddie’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “Steve?” Eddie says, his voice calm. Steve turns back to the counter, facing away from them. Maybe if he doesn’t look directly at Eddie, it’ll be easier to say. “I may or may not have implied to my mother that Eddie and I are dating and that’s why I’m bringing him home for Christmas,” Steve says in a rush, hoping that he won’t have to repeat himself. OR: Steve accidentally implies that he and Eddie are dating at Christmas.
#steddie#steddie fic rec#oneshot#5-10k#pining#fake dating#christmas#friends to lovers#fluff#bed sharing#au modern#au college#roommates#getting together
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